Primer for the Apocalypse

After adding my outbound messages to the queue, I decided to test out my new inventory. It was smaller than my ring but still a decent size for someone who otherwise wouldn’t have storage. The space held roughly three cubed meters. It was about the size of a small room, and I suspected I could expand that significantly if I focused Space mana toward the microscopic bits of crystal making up the frame of the formation.

It was something to test later.

Unfortunately, the space didn’t have any kind of time-reduction or [Stasis], so I wouldn’t be able to use it for food. That wasn’t a huge issue for me, though, since I already had a few storage items with [Stasis].

After completing my experiments, I decided to explore the small village. I considered going in stealth since any watchers shouldn’t be able to see me, but the small bit of uncertainty kept me from acting. I didn’t know if the dungeon had some way to bypass magical effects when it came to projecting footage. It almost had to if people with stealth capabilities were capable of being monitored.

Then again, I didn’t know if those people were being monitored when they were using stealth magic. I really hoped Master Kairos knew the answer to my questions. It would be nice to know whether or not I could move freely from a protected location without worrying about the eyes of any potential watchers.

In a way, it was odd for me to feel the need to hide for something so simple. But after the weeks I’d spent worrying about attacks from my fellow Earthborn… I couldn’t quite bring myself to feel safe walking among them when it was so obvious I had an association with the Alliance.

Dealing with newly awakened adults who hadn’t even obtained a profession was easy enough. Their auras weren’t nearly enough to fight Teleport. But in the dungeon, I was one of the weaker individuals on the floor. There also wasn’t a handy deserted island to shunt people to.

Though it felt like asking for trouble, I left my room without changing. I only cast a skin-tight Time Barrier to supplement the regular [Barrier] talisman I wore. While most attacks probably wouldn’t be able to breach the protections on my talisman right away, I couldn’t negate the possibility that a group might coordinate attacks.

Maybe I was being paranoid – I hoped I was being paranoid. But I couldn’t ignore my experiences. Having already been involved in one incident where someone tried to attack without provocation was more than enough to reinforce my wariness.

Thankfully, aside from a few odd stalkers, I had no issues while wandering around the village. Since my stalkers kept their distance, I didn’t bother with them. Between the dungeon’s declaration that the village was a no-PvP zone and my dual barriers, I wasn’t overly worried.

The building next to the Tavern/Inn was a moderately-sized general store manned by a short human that I suspected might be a hybrid. He looked a lot like some of the dwarf-human or human-gnome hybrids I’d seen before, and a quick scan with Assess let me know I’d been close.

[Jackle (Mixed) – Level 30 – Merchant/Crafter – Earth]

Sensing my question, the system had included the man’s race. Mixed meant his heritage included at least 12.5% of three or more races. Given how human he appeared, I was willing to bet he was half-human and the other half was some dwarf/gnome mix. Of course, I could be wrong. He might be mixed with one or more Demi races – also known as Beastkin.

“Oh! A new Sect Elite!” the Merchant said excitedly. “Welcome, Young Mistress! What can this humble Merchant assist you with today?”

“Information, to start,” I said with a smile. “You’re certainly not from Earth.”

The Merchant’s face darkened. “No. No, I am not,” he said, his tone suddenly clipped. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Why would it? This isn’t Earth,” I replied. “I was just surprised to see you.”

With a little more friendliness, the Merchant Jackle nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Several people have come in here thinking that I’m somehow to blame for their perceived misfortunes. A few outright accused me of being some kind of invader, which, I’ll admit, took me a while to figure out.”

He shook his head slowly and sighed in commiseration. “It seems your world is going through some turmoil right now.”

“That’s true. Earth is struggling,” I replied. “I’m sure it will get better once everyone adapts to the changes.”

The short man hummed in response as he considered my response. I glanced around the store, noting that while many of the items looked handmade, there were several that were obviously manufactured outside of the dungeon. I wondered how the man gained access to outside resources.

Perhaps it was something that came with running a general store.

Turning back to the Merchant, I asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been here? I’m not quite sure how the whole dungeon thing works since I’ve only just arrived. My Master explained some, but it’s clear I don’t have nearly as good of a grasp of the situation as I thought I did.”

“If you’re asking how long I’ve been in the dungeon, my answer is my whole life. I was born on the fifth floor, and like many native dungeoneers, I started my journey toward ascension when I reached Tier Two. I’m sure it’s the same for those born on higher floors, too,” he said as he leaned on the counter between us.

“Most of the people born in the Realm Dungeon train and grow their professions through Tier One,” Jackle said before correcting himself. “Actually, most knock out the first level of Tier Two before leaving to keep from needing to take a break early on.”

With a resigned sigh, the Merchant continued, “Unfortunately, some of us are forced into breaks.” He stepped back and raised one of his pantlegs, showing off the wooden prosthesis that replaced his left calf and foot. “I keep hoping some Elite Life affinity challenger will enter the dungeon at Tier Three. That’s pretty much my only hope for ever getting this thing regrown. Normal healers won’t even try, especially not at Tier Three.”

He patted his leg. “I had an Artificer make this for me, but he wasn’t nearly good enough to allow me to continue climbing. Not many Tier Three Artificers would be,” he added. “My former party said they’d try to find someone good enough to make me a better leg, but I doubt they remember after forty-six years. Heck, they might be dead, for all I know.”

My imagination danced with possibilities. A nearly half-century-old wound was probably beyond what I could manage with Time-based healing alone, even with Master Kairos’ training. If the leg was still there and only damaged, I’d probably give it a shot. Without the leg, I’d need to use more Life mana than I had access to.

A more functional prosthesis would definitely be doable. Even technology alone would be able to return him to full mobility. Maybe if he had access to a Tier Five or higher Life mana core… He did say he was from the fifth floor, so he might still have some material from his home floor.

As I thought about the possibilities, Jackle continued speaking. “You know, I took Crafter as my second profession, hoping it would let me figure out a way to improve my leg. Now, I mostly use it to create products to sell.” He sighed tiredly before shaking his head. “But enough about my sad story. I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain about my life.”

“I don’t mind. You wouldn’t happen to have a Tier Five Life mana core, would you?” I asked curiously.

Jackle tilted his head in confusion. “No. My former party took the higher-tier healing devices since they were more likely to need them. Why do you ask?”

“I have a lot of medical training, but Time magic isn’t very good at healing unless the wound is fresh. If you had a strong enough Life core, I’d be willing to try regrowing your leg. But without it…”

“I understand. It’s a nice thought, but I’ve accepted the loss by now.”

I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of someone who wanted to progress being forced to languish because of an injury.

“It’s been a while since I focused on Artificing over pure Enchanting, but I have some experience in robotics and engineering. I can’t promise anything,” I emphasized to the man, not wanting to get his hopes up too high, “but I wouldn’t mind trying a few things as a side project while I’m on the floor.”

“Robotics?” he said, considering the word. “That’s translating as something related to golem-making?”

I nodded. “Yes. It is – or rather, was – purely technological. I don’t know how much you know about Earth, but it was a mundane world until very recently. It started as an experimental colony planet, but the world became unbalanced after going so long without mana, so the Alliance came and ‘reintegrated’ us.”

“I figured out the mundane part, just based on what the newest dungeon cohorts have said. But the rest is news to me,” Jackle explained as he hoisted himself onto a nearby stool. “I’m a sixth-generation dungeoneer, so the only information I have on the universe beyond the dungeon is what outsiders share.”

“Are there a lot of people who’ve grown up in the dungeon?”

The Merchant looked at me with amusement. “There are more native dungeoneers than there are new challengers, that’s for sure,” he smirked. “Once you reach Tier Four or Five, I’d say most of the people on the floors are residents who aren’t really interested in progressing further. The elites and the handful of true ascenders usually spend as little time as possible in the cities once they get the required alternate level.”

“Alternate level, as in the one level per tier that needs to be gained using a different method?” I asked to ensure I understood what the man was referencing.

Jackle nodded. “Exactly! Once they knock that out, few bother with the cities unless they want to trade or take a break.”

“So, I’m guessing it’s a bit more built up than this?” I asked, gesturing around me.

The Merchant laughed. “Oh, yes! Very different. On the fifth floor where I grew up, there are three cities, though only the capital has protections enforced by the dungeon, and that’s only within the old village. The rest have to keep an eye out for changes in spawn locations. I think the dungeon moves them around every once in a while to challenge us, though it never spawns creatures inside a building. So, at least there’s that.”

I continued chatting with the friendly Merchant for several minutes as I perused his wares. With a little prodding, I learned that as a Merchant running a dungeon shop, he had access to a special portion of the dungeon’s kiosk that allowed him to purchase goods from outside the dungeon. Unfortunately, he was limited to items made with Tier Three or weaker materials.

Jackle had been allowed to take over for the dungeon golem that used to run the general store when it became clear that he was incapable of progressing further. He’d gained Merchant as a profession to gain some extra experience while handling his party’s trades, so it made sense for him to lean into it once his climb ended.

Having prepared well, I didn’t need any of the items he was selling, but I still made note of what was being offered.

Before leaving, I cast Diagnose to get a better idea of his injury before scanning him with Spatial Sense to obtain accurate measurements to work with. Jackle didn’t sell materials, only accepting them in trade for items, but pointed me in the right direction.

I didn’t need anything specific, but I wanted to get an idea of what was available on the floor. Conveniently, the Trading Post was located in the next building.

Like the tavern, the Trading Post was run by a dungeon golem. The actual Trading Post only took up about a quarter of the large building housing it, with the rest left open for community members to use as an indoor community market. With how empty the space was, it seemed most people on the floor didn’t bother attempting to trade amongst themselves.

Only two individuals were peddling their items in the expansive space – one who was trying to sell uncured furs and gemstones for more than they were probably worth and a woman who was selling street food.

The smell reminded me of Indian food, and I made a mental note to come back and try the woman’s wares the next time I came by. I wondered if she’d given up on ascending or if she’d decided to go the route of lifestyle professionals. As long as she gained a level every tier by killing creatures (or finding some other non-profession-related method of gaining experience), she could slowly progress.

It wouldn’t be nearly as fast, but most people outside the dungeon progressed that way. Surprisingly, few had any real desire to push themselves toward ascension.

In fact, I was surprised more people hadn’t settled at Tier Three in the dungeon. Then again, ascension was still a relatively new thing for the people of Earth. Unless they sustained an injury like Jackle and had nobody who could fix it, those who had already reached this point would probably continue climbing for a while.

I suspected there were probably a lot more Earthborn languishing at Tier One or Tier Two, unable to muster the fortitude to push further. Those who had already reached Tier Three were probably much more focused on progression than the ones left behind.

After seeing the pitiful state of the market and seeing what materials were available from the golem, I crossed the town square and headed toward the crafting hall. Though I’d obtained the tools to practice my various crafting skills without such a place, I still checked inside to see what was available.

The back half of the building was reserved for processing materials only. There were several private rooms, but most of the space was open. Thankfully, there was good ventilation and air purification for the space. Otherwise, the smell would have been hard to deal with.

There were more people in the processing room than I’d seen in the rest of the village combined, so I quickly made my way to the front of the building to check out the crafting stations.

Near the entrance to the large workspace, there was a quest display roughly the size of a 46” flatscreen showing the items and materials being requested by various crafters on the floor. There was also a smaller, separate display listing the finished products being offered for sale. It was almost like shopping online, with clickable icons that expanded to display the image and details of the items for sale.

Like in the back half of the building, there were private crafting rooms available, but the cost of renting them was much higher than using one of the tables in the communal area.

The largest building in the village was nestled between the Crafting Hall and the Trading Post. It was shaped like an “L” and served as a long-term housing option for floor residents. I wasn’t sure if it would be more appropriate to call it an apartment complex or a bunkhouse, but from what I saw, each room was separate and contained more basic amenities than the Inn.

The golem in charge of housing seemed happy to give me a tour, and I listened as it described the various weekly costs associated with living in the protected building. Most of the rooms were small studio-style apartments with a single bed, bathroom, and table. There were a few apartments available with two bedrooms, but the cost was more than double what the studio went for.

Behind the residential building was a large garden that was clearly being tended to by one or more residents. The golem stated it was a community plot and was free for anyone to use. However, there was nothing preventing others from stealing.

There were a few small structures around the perimeter of the central village, but they did not appear to be dungeon-made. I assumed they were probably residences built by current or former floor inhabitants. I fleetingly considered setting up my pod around the perimeter but decided to wait until I had a better feel for the floor inhabitants.

Like the ones who were still tracking my movements within the village.

Most likely, I’d set up somewhere outside the village, hidden from the rest of the floor inhabitants. I didn’t want to invite more issues than I already had. With that thought in mind, I exited the protected zone and made my way into the forest to the south.

Through Spatial Sense, I watched as my stalkers followed behind. With a disappointed sigh, I teleported into one of the nearby trees. The trees were huge, reminding me of banyan trees with how the trunks looked like intertwined vines leading to thick upper branches. Their trunks had more of a braided appearance than the banyans I’d seen on Earth, but it was similar enough that I wondered if the trees might be somehow related.

Putting the extraneous thoughts about trees aside, I settled in and waited for my stalkers to get closer. I wondered how they’d react when they realized I’d disappeared.