A routine growing in familiarity occupied Danielâs next few days. The wait for Ghost and Specter flew by, a blur of morning runs then practice with the kusarigama. He was wary of ridding himself of the muscle fatigue born from training and instead tolerated the soreness, though its negative impact on his improvement was tangible.
In the evenings, he diligently studied Etheril through the books in the library â heâd taken a real interest in the peculiar fauna of the land.
For every book on a rich environment and flourishing food chain, there was a sequel explaining the biome and the species that occupied it was now extinct, the decimation to the landscape incalculable. He realized in his studying that Mayline hadnât exaggerated her tale of the mast and the world breaking ship it belonged to. Over half of the planet was gone, a mere quarter left standing in the shadow of the assault, what remained forever changed in the splintering of the land. The loss of the rest of the world rippled through what was left, Mother Nature struggling to compensate for her lost limbs.
Heâd gotten used to the single meal in his days, for the most part, but his hunger was still ravenous. For all of his avoidance of the Hunger Svelâs powers brought, he felt he could never get enough of any meal put in front of him.
When Ghost and Specter returned from their expedition, it was later in the night and Daniel had set up shop in the main entrance hall. His study material was set neatly on a small round table beside him, and he looked up only when Kali said something.
âWelcome back,â she said, seeming neither welcoming nor happy they were back, the deep ridges around her eyes growing with each passing day. Daniel wasnât sure heâd ever seen the front desk unmanned, or manned by someone else. When did she sleep?
Specter approached the desk, passing along a paper that earned him a pouch of coins in return.
Ghost walked over to Daniel, identified as the only person who could be heard walking but not seen. His ears had gotten sharper, he thought, in the quiet ghost town of the DCT headquarters.
The tall woman flopped into the round chair next to Daniel, on the other side of the table he was using to study. She reached over and grabbed his arm.
She looked exhausted. Her normally shiny hair was ragged, braided and bound in a bun that had lost many stray hairs. She hadnât changed from her armor on their journey back, still wearing chainmail that covered her torso, upper arms and upper legs, a thick leather belt tight around her midsection.
âWeâre out again tomorrow morning. Get your gear ready, Iâll be at your room right before dawn,â she ordered, her chatty nature grated down by whatever had transpired the last few days.
The mission with Specter and Ghost was feeling less like an offer and more like an order, but he wasnât sure what had caused the change. âTomorrow morning? Donât you need to rest?â
Ghost shook her head, smoothing strands of hair away from her face with her free hand. âNo time. Shower, sleep, re-gear, then we need to hit the road right away. An order straight from the Crown.â
âAm I a part of that order?â
A disarming smile worked its way across her dry lips, the bottom cracked in the middle. âNo, no of course not. We just wanted to give you the opportunity to get some field training â youâve no obligation to accompany us,â she reassured, the crinkle around her eyes friendly and comforting, but founded in an understanding her assumption was correct.
And it was. âRight. Well, I appreciate the opportunity. Do you have any suggestions for what I bring with us?â
âWeâve taken whatâs called a Crown cut. They take a portion of the reward for the mission, but in turn they supply us with fully stoked transport. Food, camp gear, and transport arenât concerns for this one. Bring what you think will be useful â yourself and a weapon, at least,â Ghost answered, patting the back of his forearm. âNow, Iâve got to get going. Iâm in desperate need of a bath and sleep in a bed. Ask Kali for details on the mission, weâll see you tomorrow morning.â
When she vanished, Daniel looked up to see that Specter was gone as well. Kali was up from her chair, pinning another slip of paper to the mission board. He closed his books, sliding them into his bag before going to speak to the irritable manager.
âHey Kali. Could you give me information on the mission weâre going on tomorrow?â He asked, further context not necessary when no one else was in the room. She turned away from the board, folding her arms over the wrinkled white shirt of her uniform.
The silence stretched too long and Daniel added, with his own irritation. âPlease.â
Kali upper lip twitched, the start of a sneer, but she crossed back over to her desk, shifting some papers that he couldnât see. âOverflow from the 73rd dungeon, threat of life to two neighboring villages, one located over the dungeon, the other six clicks south.â
The unfamiliar measurement made Daniel reach for his notebook, scribbling the details she gave. Kali wasnât Reborn, the lack of an automatic conversion confirmed it. But clicks had a familiar ring â some distance sci-fi movie featuring military men with large guns. Was it the same measurement? How long was a click on Earth anyway? He added the question to his ever growing list.
âDungeon type identified as Crypt, but not properly sealed â locals used upper levels and requested the gate be left open, barricades were made to block off the lower levels. 73rd underwent several partial clears before its final full-clear twenty three years ago, at which point it remained dormant,â Kali explained, reading from her sheet of paper but without the usual drawl of her unenthused boredom. For all her disinterest, she was invested in the mission.
âUntil now, obviously,â she continued, looking up from her desk. âThe 73rdâs village has been reporting undead flesh sightings for a few weeks now, primarily in the nearby forest, indicating another entrance may have opened. Your objective is to clear the overflow, locate the new entrance, and report back so a full Crawler team can clear and close the dungeon.â
Daniel had several questions and rattled them off like bullet points.
âWhat is undead flesh?â
âA subtype of undead. Think zombie rather than skeleton.â
âHow far away is the 73rd dungeon from Mast?â
âHalf a day by carriage.â
âWhy would a village be built on top of a dungeon?â
âPeople occasionally settle on or near dungeons for raiding purposes. Dungeons, especially Crypt-types, frequently have valuable loot. When the dungeon is clear, the buildings remain. More commonly, though, the dungeon comes second.â
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Daniel paused at this, the scribbles of his out-of-place Bik pen trailing off. âWait, how does the dungeon come second? Why would you build a dungeon under a town?â
Kaliâs trademark annoyance returned, a gut repulsion to his ignorance. âWe donât build dungeons. They just happen â and they love people. What the fuck do you think weâre doing here? What do you think your job is?â
âI donât know!â Daniel exclaimed, defensive and returning her glare. âNo one explained this to me.â
âFucking Reborns, fucking Axen,â she muttered, pinching her nose between two clenched fingers. âSee, this is why you leave Crawling to the people that actually give a shit about our world. For every decent Reborn, you get twenty assholes who think we choose to build the dungeons. âOh, have you considered not building the massive deadly labyrinths that you spend countless lives and lifetimes sealing?â Assholes.â
Blood rushed to his face, irritation on the tip of his tongue like venom, but he caught it. She was unfairly rude, callous and cold, and clearly thought very little of him. But it had been a dumb question.
âOk, Iâm sorry. Bad question,â he sighed, subtle mannerisms picked up from Svel, and finished his notetaking. He thought about asking why Axen was a target of her ire, but the more he dwelled on it, the more obvious it became. Axen had chosen the payout for his âworkâ in the 112th dungeon â he was welcome at the DCT headquarters because of some unknown station that Axen held. Daniel hadnât earned his place here.
Kali only snorted in response, sinking back into her chair, resuming her diligent work of reading a book while the mission slips piled up, the Crawlers unable to clear them fast enough. He left her there, returning to his room.
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Daniel sat at his desk awhile, considering what should be brought. The contents of his bag, everything he owned aside his armor and weapon, lay on the rickety wooden table. A few canisters of oil, both clay and glass. The sheath he had for the short blade he lost in the 112th. The longer of the two spools of rope heâd purchased from Theo.
The first things that sprang to mind were items sure to be covered by the Crown cut. Food, torches, something to sleep on that wasnât a single fur unable to be both blanket and mattress.
Stretching beyond those, he needed to understand what they were hunting. In his reading for the week, he hadnât reached a section about killing, or re-killing, undead. He hoped Ghost or Specter would have guidance, but that meant he had nothing to go on to prepare.
Finding the new entrance was the other objective â theyâd be wandering in the woods, if the villager reports were accurate. The forest on the approach to Mast had been huge and dense, a combination easy to get lost in. If Specter really was the perfect hunter, heâd probably be able to navigate the woods with ease, but memories of Axen leaving him behind in the 112th plagued his mind. Relying exclusively on near strangers would get him killed.
He set to work cutting a portion of the thick rope off, unspooling and working out the tight weave to instead wind threads back together into smaller, thinner sections of rope. His mom had enjoyed a wide array of crafting skills, from crochet to hand knitting to sewing. Well, she couldnât have enjoyed them that much. Couldnât have enjoyed anything much.
Daniel swallowed a long-lingering sadness, focusing his hands on the task of weaving the rope into more manageable sections, smaller ones that could be used to create makeshift signs or arrows, anything to help one not get lost in a forest, if need be.
The work was a pleasant distraction until he was tired enough to sleep.
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Swift knocking pulled Daniel from his sleep, Ghostâs cheery voice on the other side of the door. Rest had rejuvenated her. âUp and at âem, Daniel, weâve plenty of ground to cover. Weâll eat on the road, meet us out front when youâre dressed. Oh, and donât forget to prepay for your room, wouldnât want Kali snatching your belongings while youâre away. She certainly would and youâve no idea how difficult it can be to get them back â took me three whole days and a month of pay to get back what I rightfully owned, and she still insists she just misplaced some things...â
Heâd gotten faster at putting on his armor, the process only taking a few minutes of strapping-fiddling. With his bag packed from the night prior, he ground a few extra tokens into the Dust System and left the room to meet Ghost and Specter.
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The sky was still dim when Daniel left the DCT headquarters, the Mastâs grand runes the only major source of light. He crossed the few steps out of the building, covering the short cobblestone walkway to reach what Ghost had called a carriage.
The word wasnât inaccurate, but it brought to mind ideas of a horse-drawn carriage, which wasnât the case. The sturdy little cart, featuring a combination of engraved wooden doors, curtain-covered windows, and simple metal wheels, was pulled by no animal. Instead, the axles of the vehicle were covered in layers and layers of ticking golden runes. A time limit.
He was beginning to understand the Lady of Light was more the Lady of Electricity or Lady of Power. Light was a natural byproduct, and how the people of Etheril understood her gifts in their simplest forms, but it seemed her magical power could be applied as a brute force.
The carriage begged the question of efficiency, though. He was sure it would move, the front wheels attached to a steering wheel and exterior seat for the driver. But was this the most effective application of the two? Could Insoâs power runes be used in better ways? Would the carriage be better pulled by a horse?
It felt less like the people of the world had invented the contraption in front of him, and more like they had scavenged it, smashing together their understanding of magic with a vehicle they dredged from a wreckage.
The feeling was amplified by his realization he hadnât seen one before â there hadnât been a single other carriage on the road to Mast or within the city itself. No vehicles at all, just people walking and occasionally tugging wagons or wheelbarrows themselves. Why werenât they used more? Why werenât there any pack animals?
His consideration was put to a stop when a door of the vehicle swung open, Specter stepping out of the dim interior and dropping to the ground with a brief shake. For the first time, his cloak was pulled back behind his shoulders, revealing the armor underneath. He wore chainmail similar to Ghostâs, but featured sleek metal plates where Ghost leaned towards thick leather belts. It felt an odd choice for a hunter who relied on stealth, but then, he couldnât make any noise, so the grind of metal wasnât a concern for him.
Ghost was rummaging inside the carriageâs interior, heard but not seen. Specter handled the greeting, tapping a hand to his chest and giving the standard Reborn âhelloâ as he approached Daniel, catching the otherâs hand for a firm shake. He eyed Daniel, a quick scan from head to toe, and tilted his head to side, an inquisitive eyebrow raised as he mimed swiping a weapon.
âIn the bag â I donât have a sheath,â Daniel explained, earning him a frown. Specter pulled a silver coin from a pouch laced to his belt and tapped it twice. His deals seemed like less of a bargain than Theoâs, but Daniel pulled the requested coin out anyway.
Specter added them to his pouch and sauntered to the back of the carriage, rifling through a travelsack that had been strapped on top of two wooden crates. His hand reemerged with a near-black belt, on one side a small adjustable loop and the other a broad metal hook and a corresponding latch. Daniel pulled the kusarigama from his bag, hooking the belt around his waist with Specterâs assistance and adjusting the sizing of its loop to fit the handle of the hand scythe. The excess chain crossed in front of him once, its broad loops wrapping neatly around the metal hook on his left side and held in place with the latch.
Specter undid the latch and clipped it back into place, then repeated the motion again and again, looking expectantly at Daniel.
âI should practice pulling my weapon free,â Daniel guessed, the game of figuring out the silent hunterâs lessons becoming second nature. Specter smiled and clapped his shoulder with a firm hand, then he turned and climbed aboard the carriageâs front bench, settling behind the steering wheel of the vehicle.
Daniel entered through the door Specter had exited, Ghostâs friendly chatter picking up immediately as he slid inside, closing the door behind him.
âHappy to have you aboard Daniel! You can take the front seat, Iâve made myself quite comfortable on the back,â she said, patting the red velvet cushion of the back bench. He imagined she must be cramped. Even he had to dip his head to get inside the carriage.
He tossed his bag on one side of the front bench and settled down, wondering if he should have brought a book or something. Ghost ended those thoughts in a way only she could.
âGood man, now Iâd recommend you make yourself comfortable too, weâve several hours of travel ahead of us. Fortunately, Iâm wonderful company, and Iâve found you to be a delightful companion who wouldnât waste an opportunity such as this,â she paused, if only for dramatic effect, and he heard her lean forward. âNow tell me, do you have any questions before we get to the mission site?â
He smiled and pulled his notebook from his bag â he had at least several hours worth.