No, I most certainly am not! she thought. But every good deed I do will make the elves stop accusing me of making their world worse than it is. Averyl shut her eyes, clenched her left fist, and placed it to her chest. “Yes, I most certainly am,” she lied.
It took half a day of traveling, but eventually, scorching heat seared the air around the three. It felt as if Averyl had stepped into a mountainous area that existed within a blacksmith’s forge. Pillars of smoke rose from the dark red rocks in the distance, molten lava poured from the gaps in the rock face and flowed like a river of bubbling red-orange, making it difficult to travel. Periodically, Averyl and her party had to stop to find a way past the canals of lava. The reality corruption had profoundly changed the landscape, throwing in volcanos and other hazards that should not have been there as heatwaves blurred their vision and the smell of sulfur and ash made them cough.
Pierre wiped off a buildup of sweat from his face. “I see nothing important,” he said. “Shall we turn back?”
“No,” Remy said, his hunter’s eye seeking lingering people killers. “They are here, and…”
Remy pointed ahead with the tip of his right sword. “Look at those mining nodes. The corruption must have added them recently. We need to keep the paths clear for miners and gatherers to access the nodes.”
Averyl glanced at what Remy pointed at—gold glowing rocks tainted by the corruption. They were valuable mining points for one to harvest crafting metals. One of the many reality-altering changes brought to Alfheimr.
Remy continued. “The minerals gathered here could help speed up the repairs of our airships. Not to mention, allow our newly recruited blacksmiths to level faster.”
Pierre examined the mining point. “I did not know these were here.”
“The people killers must have,” Remy said. “It would explain the new weapons and armor they have. Those fuckers were mining this place for weeks without us realizing there were resources here. Once we get back, we need to inform the king of this and send teams to secure this area. With our ships and equipment upgraded, those fucking dark elves from New Svartálfar are going to wish they yielded when we gave them the chance.”
Remy and Pierre walked ahead, pushing deeper into the hellish volcanic landscape. Averyl followed, being the loyal healer that she was. The reddish rocks they strode across seemed darker than usual, and it did not seem like Remy or Pierre noticed. Averyl stopped and lowered herself to the ground to give it a closer examination. Blood had coated the surface—fresh blood.
“Wait,” Averyl called to the men. They watched as she touched the blood, then brought her red-coated fingertips up. “This blood is fresh,” she said, then looked to the side where the blood trail had led. There was a narrow passageway in the rock face. “There’s a blood trail leading this way.”
She sauntered to the narrow passage, scrutinizing it up and down until a message appeared on a floating screen.
Antoinette’s Cauldron: Rank C Dungeon
Requirements to enter: Any size party level 15 and up with a Rank of C or better.
Remy and Pierre stood shoulder to shoulder with Averyl and read the floating screen.
“Did they make their hideout within a dungeon?” Pierre asked.
“It would make sense,” Averyl said. “There is an entry requirement that bars certain individuals from entering.”
“It does not bar us, however,” Remy said and stepped forward.
“Do any of you know anything about this dungeon?” Averyl asked.
“Nope, this is new to us,” Pierre replied, his feet slowly carrying him away from the dungeon’s entrance.
“Not the people killers,” Remy said. “They knew of this place for a while, probably ran it a few times to collect the rewards at the end.”
“Except that goes against their code, does it not?” Averyl asked. “If they want gear, they just kill someone then steal it from their body.”
“Well, maybe they want good stuff?” Remy suggested. “They mostly prey on lower-level people, forcing their higher-level members to use crafted gear or.” He pointed his sword at the dungeon’s dark entrance. “Stuff found in here.”
Remy made his way to the entrance of Antoinette’s Cauldron, then tapped the screen ahead of it to confirm that his party would enter it. It faded away after ensuring that all three had met the requirements, and the astral net blocking individuals from stepping in disappeared. Pierre followed Remy, though there was a hint of reluctance in his slow steps. Averyl remained where she stood, half tempted to spread her wings to fly away and leave them. Remy wanted to enter a dungeon nobody in the kingdom knew existed and quite possibly infested with outlaws lying in wait for an ambush. It was beyond reckless.
She hoped Remy would come to his senses and order them back to Lumière.
“I believe our healer has cold feet,” Remy said, grinning.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I am coming.” Only because I do not want to travel back to Lumière City alone . . .
They entered Antoinette’s Cauldron, a darkened lava cave found within the mountains. Averyl gasped when the first pack of monsters approached, snarling and exposing their fangs.
Flame Scorpion | LVL: 22 | Rank: C
Flame Scorpion | LVL: 22 | Rank: B
Flame Scorpion | LVL: 21 | Rank: C
They were at a much higher level than she thought. The level 15 requirement was just the minimum to enter, not the level of the monsters.
Chapter Fifteen
The Sirocco’s propellers swirled, creating the conditions needed to launch the airship into the sun-setting skies. The aeronauts moved to their assigned stations, most disappearing below decks to operate their low-tech gizmos.
Bordeaux ordered the crew to send the airship on its flight, leaving the Verte Woods and René’s Cove far behind. From what the crew told Guy, the mountains on the horizon was called the Antoinette Mountains, where they’d find Lumière City. It was the capital of the Lumière Kingdom and the largest city on the continent, seated at the foot of the Antoinette Mountains and surrounded by the endless green of the woodlands and meadows. Being at a higher elevation gave Guy a better glimpse at the forests covering the land below.
Guy pushed away from the airship’s railing and looked at everyone behind him—Henrietta, Ulysses, Xanthe, Zuran, Kam, and Rachael. They were all staring in awe at the lands the airship had flown over. He had an important question to ask.
“Uh, this is everyone, right? We didn’t leave anyone behind?”
They left René’s Cove and the Seraphim in a rush. Guy didn’t even stop to make sure they were prepared. It looked like his friends were accounted for, though.
“Yeah, this is everybody,” Ulysses said. “Except for Arn. Hmm, that reminds me.”
“We kinda forgot about him . . .” Guy said. “He must be wondering why we never came back.”
“I’ll contact Arn and tell him what’s up,” Ulysses said, pulled out his communicator and walked to the side.
Guy returned to watching the world fly past as the sky slowly transitioned from orange to dark and star filled. The winds never ceased to blow his hair and scattered the ends of his trench coat. Rachael, who came to stand with Guy, leaned against the railing. The breeze blew her braided cherry hair and fairy wings.
“Is it bad to admit that I could do this all day?” Rachael said to him.
“Naw.” Guy shook his head, never taking his eyes away from the darkening sky. “This is what? Your second time ever watching a sunset?”
“Something like that,” she said. “First time watching just one sunset at least. Faeheim had two suns.”
“They say Earth only had one sun,” Guy said. “And when it set, it looked something like this.”
“Earth . . .” Rachael giggled. “Thought you said it was a fairytale myth?”
“It is. But it’s fun to imagine what an imaginary planet like Earth would be like where sunsets like this happen daily—”
A sc
reen appeared ahead of the two.
Sirocco’s Status
Forward Durability: 20,000/20,000
Aft Durability: 20,000/20,000
Starboard Durability: 20,000/20,000
Port Durability: 20,000/20,000
Overall Structural Integrity: 100%
Sirocco’s Weapon Status
Forward Weapons: None
Aft Weapons: None
Starboard Weapons: Heavy Cannons LVL 6 - 7/7 Operational
Port Weapons: Heavy Cannons LVL 6 - 7/7 Operational
Guy and Rachael slowly shifted their gaze to each other, both noting their perplexed look.
“This ship has stats . . .?” he muttered.
“Indeed,” Tempeste said, and joined the two, her blonde hair blowing in the passing winds. “High-level Carpenters and Blacksmiths constructed it from corrupted materials.”
Tempeste leaned against the railing beside Guy. She was close enough to feel the heat from her arm as it brushed against his. If he didn’t know any better, it looked like Rachael tried to peek and see how close Tempeste had stood to Guy.
“Well, that’s new . . .” Rachael said. Guy wasn’t sure if it was in response to what Tempeste said or that Tempeste’s arm brushed his.
“The durability allows us to take damage that normally would destroy an airship,” Tempeste explained.
“That might explain why the Seraphim went down so fast,” Guy said. “It’s just a normal starship. Magic cast by Mages can do a lot to it. Probably corrupted cannonballs too.”
“Sounds like Ulysses and Arn have some upgrades to make on the Seraphim,” Rachael said.
“If you require materials or crafters, we can arrange for that and more,” Tempeste said.
“Yo, Guy.”
Guy turned around to see Ulysses waving at him with his communicator in hand. “What’s up, Ulysses?”
“Just finished talking to Arn,” Ulysses said. “He’s up to date with what happened and is trying to restore main power to the Seraphim.”
“So until then, airships like this are our only means of flight,” Guy said.
Ulysses shrugged and put his communicator away. “Pretty much.”
“And until we get the Seraphim upgraded,” Rachael added after turning away from the view of the horizon. “Airship travel will probably be the safest way for us to explore Alfheimr.”
Ulysses grimaced. “What . . . upgrades?”
“They made this whole airship from corrupted materials,” Guy said. “If we want to prevent the Seraphim from being taken down by Mage spells, then we’ll have to use those metals to upgrade the hull.”
Ulysses folded his arms. “What will that do?”
Guy showed him by giving the railing behind him a soft tap. The Sirocco’s durability rating appeared, causing Ulysses to stroke his chin as he stepped closer to eye it.
“A ship like this won’t go down until its durability score reaches zero,” Guy explained.
“That could be really handy during a sentinel attack,” Ulysses said, his eyes still narrowed at the screen. “Do you think corrupted materials could enhance our weapon systems?”
“Perhaps,” Tempeste said, then took the screen that held their attention. She tapped its commands and switched it to a screen listing the airship’s attack stats. “We make our cannons from corrupted materials as well, giving them increased firepower and accuracy.”
“Well, son of a bitch.” Ulysses sounded impressed. “What crafting professions will we need to make that happen?”
“We rely on Carpentry and Blacksmithing to construct our airships,” Tempeste said.
“I doubt that’ll be much use to the Seraphim, being a star-dweller ship,” Guy said.
“But,” Rachael chimed in, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “The corruption recognizes that star-dwellers exist.” She pulled out one of her MP hyposprays. “Only we can use hypos.”
“That’s true,” Guy said. “Maybe there’s an undiscovered crafting profession that specializes in star-dweller tech.”
“They are many professions that I do not know of,” Tempeste said. “Perhaps we will discover them in time.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tempeste meandered below decks to give the star-dwellers and their companions the chance to observe the world. That and the temperatures above deck had dropped and night had fallen. She retreated to her quarters as the high-altitude winds howled through the corridors. It was dark inside save for the light streaming through the opened door and the stars seen through the porthole. She lit the kerosene lamp on her desk to change that, and its glow shone flickering orange light along the walls, floor, and ceiling.
An unopened letter lay on Tempeste’s desk, given to her before she deployed. Tempeste gave it a long stare, debating if she should open it or lay down on her bed. She had been awake for hours, and the crew did not expect the Sirocco to land in Lumière City until the morning. Curiosity got the better of her. She reached for the white envelope and removed its wax seal to retrieve the handwritten note inside.
Tempeste sighed.
It was a letter from Remy. An apology for him not supporting Tempeste’s choice to remain in active service. Before the corruption transformed Alfheimr, Tempeste lived the life of a pampered princess. She wore pretty dresses, glittering tiaras, and attended way too many ballroom parties—a typical elven woman born of high birth. Then Tempeste made the mistake that changed it all. Her elbow had brushed against the hilt of a sword as a knight walked past her. When she had awoken, screens floated around Tempeste, informing her she had become a Berserker. Many light and dark elves awoke to similar screens in the days that came. The war between dark and light elf intensified weeks later when soldiers and aeronauts possessing combat classes clashed on the front lines.
The dark elves had higher-level fighters, rewarding them with victory after victory. Demand for individuals with combat classes soared within Lumière, and without a second thought, Tempeste abandoned her place as a princess and volunteered to serve her people. Enlistment came at a cost, however… love. The kingdom forced soldiers and aeronauts to take a vow, stating that they would never marry or have children. Love was a weakness, a distraction that could make one choose to protect their romantic partners and or children over securing victory in battle. The most ferocious fighter, it was thought, was one who had nothing to lose.
Remy was Tempeste’s fiancé. Now, they were just soldiers who used to know each other from a world that ceased to exist with the arrival of the corruption. Remy became an aeronaut after learning Tempeste enlisted, likely to be closer to her. He was such a fool. Remy should have found someone else. Now, he could never find love.
The two never talked much afterward.
Tempeste lowered the letter, unveiling her dissatisfied scowl. She tossed it back to her desk and rubbed her face. To get rid of the bitter aftertaste the message left, Tempeste returned to the Sirocco’s top deck, her blonde hair waving in the winds as she passed through the exit. It was just the wind howling and the shining stars above, the home of Guy and his kind.
Speaking of Guy, he was still on the deck, looking over the railing and at the darkened forests the airship was drifting over. Tempeste stood with him at the same spot as before, though she avoided brushing his arm. It was an accident the first time, though admittedly, the brief physical contact with Guy felt . . . nice.
“Never imagined a star-dweller to be in awe at these sights,” Tempeste said, her voice raised slightly to speak over the winds.
“You should have seen Rachael earlier,” Guy replied. “I thought she was going to cry tears of joy.”
“You and Rachael fought well for people with your level and without subclasses.”
“I wasn’t going to turn my backs on those villagers, not after what I went through on Faeheim.”
“You encountered people you could not protect?”
“Yeah. My level wasn’t high enough to do anything about it, plus I didn’t have good gear.
” Guy pushed away from the railing and faced her. Tempeste’s gaze met his. “And looking at you, it seems I still have a long way to go.” He paused for a moment and looked aside. “I gotta . . .”
The words did not come out.
“Become a hero,” Tempeste finished for him. “You want to save everyone.”
“I have to, now . . .” Guy said and reached back to grip the hilt of his sword. He pulled it from its rest on the back of his rustling coat and brought the decorative weapon up. Light shone through the blade of Asteria’s Sword, brightening his face with a soft blue glow as he clenched it. “This sword forced me into that role and didn’t explain exactly what I had to do. That’s why I’m kinda glad I met you, Tempeste.”
His words flushed her cheeks as she gasped. “Me?”
“You and your people figured out and mastered the changes the corruption brought.” Guy returned Asteria’s Sword to its rest on his back. “Like those subclasses, for example. I never realized how important those are. Henrietta’s a Berserker but lacks the boom you have.”
He is referring to my usage of Mage spells and Berserker swordplay. “Henrietta could grow to become a Berserker like me by having a Mage subclass. Or perhaps, use an Assassin subclass to gain access to dual wield. It will allow Henrietta to handle two one-handed axes at once, or perhaps two swords.”
“That sounds really fucking cool. How do we get subclasses?”
“Once you have reached level 20 for the first time on any class,” she said. “After that, touch a corrupted weapon to unlock a new class.”
“What will happen to the class we’re already using?”
A warm smile spread across her face. “Come with me.”
Tempeste held Guy’s hand and escorted him below decks, into the Sirocco’s troop armory, and away from the chilly winds that were biting at her skin. She did not know why she reached for him, and once that thought entered her mind, she let go awkwardly. He just laughed. She turned aside and held back a frown.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Think before you act!
Mirror Princess: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 2) Page 13