Leveling up the World

479. Awakened in a Strange Land

Even abandoned, the structures remained in good condition. Given the amount of time passed, it was an impressive feat. Just looking at them made Dallion feel as if he’d ventured into the oldest museum in the world.

Just like walking through Atlantis, he thought.

However, despite the majesty that shone through the sand, plants, and minor wear, there was no denying the fact that the buildings were dead. None of them had a guardian, neither did any object within the canyon. Dallion had entered a few of their awakened realms to find them completely empty despite the high level. A new message was present on the rectangles upon entry:

DESTINY FULFILLED

That was the polite way of saying that they had been sealed. The same fate had befallen the city beneath Nerosal, and might as well have Nerosal itself, if the Star had succeeded. The thought sent shivers down Dallion’s spine.

Do we explore? Lux asked, brimming with eagerness.

“Soon,” Dallion replied.

The euphoria of finding the “south” had quickly worn off when he found that still didn’t bring him any closer to his goal. With no guardians anywhere, there was no one to ask, and all attempts to get the information from the local animals had ended in failure. Stull, there was one interesting thing that he had found about this place: there was an alarming number of seagulls everywhere.

Architecture isn’t dryad, Gen said from within Dallion’s realm. It’s safe to assume it isn’t fury or nymph, either. Could be copyette?

I doubt it, Dallion replied.

While he didn’t spend long in the ruins beneath Nerosal, he had seen enough to see the differences. The building style wasn’t even close, not to mention that copyettes preferred to be in slime form when they didn’t have to infiltrate other races.

It doesn’t look dwarfish either, the echo continued. That leaves only two races. Gorgon or human.

Having Eury here about now, or even just an echo of her, would have been helpful. Regardless, Dallion doubted that this was the gorgons’ doing. Living with her for over a year now, he knew a lot of her habits, as well as a few details about her world. Granted, the awakened world was a far less-modern equivalent, but their nature would remain unchanged. Gorgons disliked sun and sand. And while one could claim that the desert was a recent development, there still was far too much sun to make a gorgon comfortable. That left only one option.

Have humans ever tried to conquer the world? Dallion asked.

Frequently, Nil replied. Throughout history, humans fluctuated between two states: struggling to survive and attempting to take over the world. Same as all races, give or take. The only reason everyone is so quiet now is that humans have become the dominant race.

A cynic would say that meant it was their turn to be banished.

Of course, there’s one more option..

As much as it was tempting to say “Minotaurs” just for laughs, Dallion knew exactly what the old echo meant.

“The Star,” he whispered.

Either that or the race of the Eighth Moon—a race that had completely vanished out of existence. Not banished, not even destroyed, but entirely erased from everyone’s memories. That would certainly explain why the land of the entire race had sunk beneath, trapped in a canyon. Maybe the chainling’s goal was to get here after all? It couldn’t risk having its hunters find the canyon, so it had decided to kill them off before that.

“Growing up I used to hear stories about ogres fighting nearby,” Dallion said. “Supposedly, they were as big as mountains and made the whole world shake with each blow.”

Dear boy, every area has its own blend of myths and legends. If you ever go to the imperial capital, you’ll hear all sorts of stories that you wouldn’t believe. I admit that our understanding of the world’s past is lacking, but not every story holds true. Besides, if the Moons don’t want us to know about something, we’ll never find out.

“I thought that leveling up removes all restrictions.”

It removes some, but many have reached their limit without learning answers to those questions. Maybe one day you’ll prove me wrong, but you’re not the first otherworlder to appear in this world, and you likely won’t be the last. And yet the mystery remains.

That was no guarantee, but Dallion understood what Nil was saying. While interesting, such questions were only distractions right now. He still had a promise to keep. Thus, finding information was his main priority.

It wasn’t difficult to capture one of the seagulls in the area. The creatures were attracted to shiny objects—especially silver coins and metal objects, it seemed—and eagerly swooped down to snatch Dallion’s harpsisword off his back. That proved to be a poor decision on their part. Splitting into twenty instances, Dallion easily grabbed the bird mid-flight, then started the annoying task of learning how to talk to it.

As any wild animal, it was terrified by its capture, making it necessary that Dallion spent half an hour removing its fears with his music skill. Once that was done, the complicated part began. Already knowing how to communicate with several bird species, Dallion tried using those for a basis. The writing skills, combined with his zoology skills, allowed him to quickly find some common elements, but when it came to figuring out the details, it felt like establishing a link between two extremely different dialects of English.

It was late afternoon when Dallion had grasped the basic lexicon and could manage a proper, if limited, conversation. As it turned out the canyon was filled with a variety of “large” creatures. The seagulls, which were extremely gossipy creatures, had seen pretty much all of them, but their ability to come up with gossip was only surpassed by the skill to forget them. One could almost call them the world’s gossip newspaper: the most relevant and topical events were closely followed, while things that had occurred a week ago or more were long forgotten.

The only relevant information that Dallion managed to pull out was that there was something “nasty” near the pillars again. The pillars—as it turned out—were what the seagulls called towers. As for an exact location, the seagull didn’t have an idea.

The conversation over, Dallion gave the bird some food and a silver coin for its troubles, then let it go.

I must admit, dear boy, I never thought I’d see someone pay an animal for information, Nil said as the seagull flapped away. You know what that would mean, right?

Enlighten me.

You’ll never be able to get rid of them. Once the rest of them hear that you’re willing to give “shinies” to anyone for the one thing they spend three quarters of their doing for free, what do you think will happen?

Beggars can’t be choosers, Nil. Dallion sighed. If one of them helps us get closer to the dragon, it’ll be worth the price.

That wasn’t Dallion’s only concern, though. While he always had concerns that he wasn’t the first person to arrive here, now he had proof: for the seagulls to have acquired a liking of silver and metallic objects, someone must have brought them here.

The rest of the day continued with Dallion walking further south through trees and sand. The positive thing of having a flutter of shardflies with him was that they could pretty much cut through anything blocking his path: large clusters of cacti, impassable patches of jungle, even ruined stone walls left in the land without purpose.

Water was slowly starting to become an issue. Dallion still had several flasks and waterskins in his backpack, but the heat was making him need more. At some point, he was going to have to go to one of the natural water sources of the canyon, and a lot sooner than he initially thought.

“Gleam, have you spotted any towers?” Dallion asked as the sun was dipping beneath the horizon. Having the Green Moon in the sky, while comforting, didn’t provide enough light for Dallion to see what was going on in the patches of sand jungle. Already there had been a few instances when he was only able to avoid quickstand thanks to his habit to constantly combat split while walking.

Nothing nearby, she replied. There’s something that might be a broken tower, or a very high building. It isn’t easy to reach, but you can make it within an hour if the shardflies keep helping out.

“Lead the way. And let me know if—"

Dallion didn’t finish his sentence. An unfamiliar presence suddenly emerged, moving towards him at impressive speed. A normal awakened would have paused to determine the exact threat. Hunters knew that in the wilderness, people didn’t have that privilege. Like in the westerns back on Earth, if a person wasn’t quick, they usually ended up dead.

Bursting into a dozen instances, Dallion leapt in all directions from his current position, drawing his harpsisword in the process. The attacker somehow must have sensed him, for it, too, split into six instances, each taking a vastly different path.

Great, Dallion thought. Splitting creatures were the ones he hated the most. They were always cunning and quite lethal.

Playing a few chords to boost his speed, Dallion then split again, covering the creature’s approach paths. Barely had he done so when a large shape leapt at him, devouring two of his instances. For the first time in quite a while, Dallion felt that his reaction trait was way too low. Half of his remaining instances slashed at the instances of the creature. All of them but once disappeared. In what was determined to be reality, Dallion cut through the thick skin of his attacker, only to find that there was no effect. The reason: the creature that had attacked him was a cutling.

“Crap!” Dallion let go of his weapon, splitting into a new dozen instances, all of which dashed away from the creature. The really alarming part was that up till now, Dallion hadn’t even sensed it. No emotions were coming from the creature, absolutely none at all.

Nil, why can’t I feel its void? Dallion asked as he quickly drew his hammer.

It must be an effect of the canyon itself, the echo replied. It probably masks emotions.

Just great. Dallion gritted his teeth. That explained why he had felt so few creatures despite the abundant vegetation. Creatures here had specialized to remain hidden, masking their smell, sound, and appearance, as well as their very emotions. Compared to them, Dallion must have been like an elephant in a China shop. The reason why it hadn’t bothered him so far was because he was confident—maybe a bit too confident—that he could deal with anything until he reached the dragon itself. What the cutling had just proved was that he was very much mistaken.

Lux, Gleam, get back here!

The creature leapt at him again, reducing all vegetation between them to slices. This time Dallion didn’t even try to block it, evading the attack, through combat splitting, while also landing a blow with the hammer on the creature’s head.

“Shards, don’t attack it!” Dallion shouted to the flurry of shardflies in the air. “It only makes it stronger!”

Blunt weapons were the only way to deal with a monster such as this. The issue was that, with the exception of the dragon shadow, it was a lot larger than all the Star-spawn Dallion had faced so far. Even a massive blow barely phased it for a few moments, causing it to split into five instances.

I’m here! Lux said, as the kaleidervisto appeared in the air. Blue flames surrounded him, after which the object darted at the form of the cutling. Back north, that would have been enough. This specimen, however, was far craftier, splitting into instances again at just the right time to avoid the attack.

Massive claws slammed into the object. Normally such an attack would have been lethal, but since the kaleidervisto was indestructible, it only slammed it into the ground.

Taking advantage of the situation, Dallion charged forward for another strike, hitting the cutling’s side with enough strength to push it several dozen feet back. Flying through palm trees like a heated knife through candles, the creature continued for a considerable distance, until it managed to stop. If looks were any indication, the hit had caused precious little damage.

Dallion gripped his hammer tightly. This wasn’t the welcome he expected.