Archeologist Warlord: A Dungeon Core Epic

by E. M. Hardy

  Then it clicked: the Empress’ stipend. Why pay for a guide when you can pocket it yourself? Yao Xiu chose to remain silent, not wanting to attract more trouble than it was worth. In the resulting silence, she heard the whispers of some of the boys in the back row.

  “Come on now, little Cai. I can understand her not stroking your little hero anytime soon, but haven’t you at least stroked her hidden flower? It’s been, what, four months now?”

  “I… er, no. Nothing of the sort just yet. Soon enough though. I’m making good progress!”

  Yao Xiu quietly rolled her eyes at the vulgarity of it all. The boys were teasing Cai Ping—again—and he was just taking it all in—again. He kept sneaking glances at her, but there was no way she was going to even try and bail him out of this one. Her estimation of him kept going down and down with each passing week, especially after that stunt he had pulled with her parents.

  This was another reason why she was so hesitant about Cai Ping’s pursuit. Yes, he was the only suitor willing to pursue her even after she had declared her intent to follow in her father’s footsteps as a historian. However, he was also weak-willed and easily bent by his peers. He was practically bullied into pursuing her, responding to a dare to tame the girl with the ‘delicious meat buns.’ Yes, she had heard what the other boys said about her, and yes, she had also heard Cai Ping’s feeble response.

  And besides, he didn’t outright reject their catcalls. That in itself was a warning that Yao Xiu wouldn’t ignore.

  She couldn’t wait to get to the pyramid. At least then she’d be too busy examining and measuring the pyramid to bother with this immaturity.

  ***

  Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Nobody even breathed.

  There, in front of them, stood a small family of swamp boars—what looked like a mother and four of her children. No, these weren’t the lazy, submissive pigs that the farmers raise. These were large, tough, and highly aggressive ferals that would suffer no intruders in their territory. Even if the younger ones didn’t show the long tusks that could gore a man as easily as a skewer pierces rice cakes, they had enough muscle and attitude to make up for it. Even worse was how the largest of them all, the mother most likely, had Chi flowing within and without it. She was an old boar, and she must have lived through a lot to be able to control Chi like that.

  I’ve gone to the pyramid, she said. Travelled this route a dozen times, she said. Stupid cheapskate and her stupid money-grubbing ways. Yao Xiu seethed inside, though she remained as motionless as her peers.

  “What do we do now?” whispered one of her classmates,

  To her credit, the lead historian didn’t waffle on giving out instructions. “No sudden moves. Slowly, calmly, back away. They won’t attack if you show them you’re not going to harm them.”

  And that is exactly what everyone did… until Yao Xiu stepped on a branch, tripped into the wet mud, and shrieked on the way down. Her scream surprised a nearby classmate, who also shrieked as she tripped, while a third classmate shrieked when he got pulled down by the second. That was enough for the mother boar, and she began her charge.

  Lead Historian Cui Dai kept her composure, putting herself between the boars and her charges. Yao Xiu saw her gather Chi at an alarming rate, far faster than what normal people could. The amount of Chi she channeled was strangely excessive for a mere Historian.

  Before the lead historian could finish channeling her Chi though, Cai Ping took the initiative and tossed a rock square into the side of the mother boar’s head. He used a bit of Chi to bolster his throw. It was nothing fancy, just an extension of applied force, but it was enough to draw the boar’s attention to him.

  “Run!” He shouted at Yao Xiu as he followed his own advice, channeling Chi into his legs and lungs to help him decamp faster. The mother boar did not like what he had done, and she turned all her rage and fury upon him.

  Yao Xiu, being less skilled in the cultivation and application of Chi, could only sprint with the strength of her natural body. She turned around and ran, escape being the only thought consuming her panicked mind.

  An hour later, and Yao Xiu was stomping through the swamp, covered to the neck in mud and water. She was exhausted.

  “Helloooo? Anyone out there?”

  Only insects responded to her calls. She shivered as the cold started to settle in, her wet clothes not helping any. She had thought her boots and pants of oiled leather would be enough, but there were enough scrapes to let water in. She should have listened to her father. He had told her to wear an extra layer of wool, as it would remain warm even when wet. But she hadn’t wanted to, saying that the class would be working up a sweat as they went about their work. In reality, she didn’t want to look like an idiot, all bundled up like a ball, while everyone else dressed lightly.

  She really should have listened to her ba and wore an extra coat at the very least.

  She started shivering for another reason, as she noticed clouds gathering overhead. It was past noon, and these parts of the swamp were soon going to be covered in thick fog. Not only would she be hopelessly lost, but things would get even colder than before.

  “Fire… need to build a fire and dry up,” she said to herself while rubbing her arms, shaking them to try and warm herself up.

  She searched around for dry leaves and, finding none, pulled her pack out and went for the papers. It would be a travesty to use the expensive materials as kindling, but she had no other choice.

  Unfortunately, water had managed to find its way into her pack—thoroughly soaking its contents. Cursing, she looked around for anything dry. She spotted a dead tree, and used a rock to scrape some of the bark off. She then snapped off a few of the dead branches she could reach, breaking them apart to form smaller twigs that would more easily catch fire. She looked for a relatively dry spot and settled down. She broke apart the bark into smaller chips, then laid them out to form a bed for the twigs she snapped off the branches.

  Now came the hard part.

  She knelt, felt her Chi within her center, and tried to coax it out. Tried, being the operative word here. She spent a good half-hour before she had stabilized her Chi enough to call out to it in the way she wanted it to. She slowly extended her palms, elbows creaking with the effort, and willed her Chi to spin rapidly in place—creating heat through friction on her intended target.

  A master would have been able to cause a conflagration with the intensity of their Chi spiral. An adept would be able to maintain a sizeable fire. A novice could generate a candle’s flame for a few moments. Yao Xiu though, she could only create heat with her command over Chi.

  She sweated with effort as she forced her Chi to spin faster and faster, and her heart leapt with joy as the bark began smoking. Of course, the fog rolled in—and in its wake, a light shower. The embers had no chance.

  “NOOOOoooooo-ho-ho-hoooooo,” sobbed Yao Xiu, who slapped the earth in frustration as all her hard work ended up for naught. Even worse, the cold got worse as the fog and shower began burrowing their chilled fingers deeper into her skin. She schooled herself soon enough though, wiping away the snot coming from her nostrils so hard she felt the mud on her arms scrape her nose. She immediately regretted being so violent on her poor, abused body.

  “Okay… okay. Calm down, Yao Xiu. Think… what would Cunning Teng Xiuying do at a time like this?” She combed through the stories in her mind, reviewing the actions of the heroes of legend. They would fly through the air to gain a better view of their surroundings. They would sing to animals, entreating them to seek help. They would speak with their ancestors for guidance. They would pull down the sun and stars for warmth.

  All of which was beyond Yao Xiu’s abilities.

  Just as she was at her wit’s end, she noticed something at the edge of her perception. She turned her head to get a better look at it, and she froze in fright.

  It was a floating head—a legless, bodiless ghost floating in the air. No, it was a floatin
g… something. It was a sphere the size of a person’s head, with a crystal lens in the center that made it look like an eyeball.

  And it looked exactly like one of the ancient Fallen artifacts documented in the archives—and it was trying to talk to her.

  Chapter 09

  What do you know. Who ever thought that a disembodied eyeball talking to a lost girl in the middle of a spooky, foggy swamp would cause said girl to start screaming her head off?

  Martin sighed internally and tried a new language pattern. Didn’t work. Another pattern. Nope. Still another. Nadda. Another one… oh, hey. She stopped screaming.

  “You… you can speak Renese?”

  “So that’s what this language is called? Then yes, I guess I’m speaking Renese.”

  The girl gulped, clearly struggling on whether to sit still or run as far and as fast away as possible. The latter option was a no-go though, considering the state of the poor girl. She’s clearly lost, she’s soaked to the bone, and her strange attempt to ‘magic’ a fire didn’t work at all. And with the sun starting to go down, things would only get worse for her later on.

  “You… you’re not going to hurt me?”

  “No, I’m just going to suck out your soul.” Martin blurted out before he could stop himself. “No, wait, I was just joking. Seriously. I am in no way going to do anything of the sort, nor do I have any intent to hurt you whatsoever.”

  And of course the terrified girl had assumed some sort of defensive posture, her trembling arm outstretched with palms facing the eyeball. Martin swore he could see some sort of energy, a force, coalescing in that open palm of hers. Maybe it was what she was using to try and start that fire?

  “Okay, let me clarify that the joke was in poor taste. I apologize. I just couldn’t resist and… wait, never mind.” Martin’s sense of humor had turned a bit darker, more morbid, after Amun’s vision. He had a hard time getting to grips with what he had witnessed, and it was affecting him in a way he did not like. This was probably why he had pointed the Ma’an caravan in the right direction and left them to journey back on their own, as he was still raw from the ordeal.

  One deep but shaky mental breath later, and he brought his focus back on track.

  “My name is Martin. I was just, er, handling some business over here in this swamp. One of my eyeballs, the one you’re looking at, happened to spot you running away from something. I’ve been monitoring you since then, and I assumed you’re at a point where you need help. So… do you need some help?”

  The girl visibly calmed down, hopefully appeased by Martin’s attempt at good manners. “I am Aspiring Historian Yao Xiu. I am… pleased… to make your acquaintance, Martin.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Miss Yao.”

  She visibly stiffened at that, and was just about to say something but she bit her lips and held her tongue—something that Martin noticed right away.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “It… is nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am positive, Martin. It is nothing of concern.”

  Martin had learned at a young age that when someone says nothing is wrong, something is definitely wrong. And as he often did when people told him that, he deflected the issue.

  “So… how can I help you?”

  Yao Xiu pondered the question for a moment, not sure what to tell the strange floating orb in front of her, then decided to get straight to the point. “Have you seen my companions? They should be dressed like me, in oilskin pants.”

  “One moment. Let me check if my eyeballs can spot them.” Yao Xiu shivered, imagining a horde of literal eyeballs floating around the sky watching their every move. Martin was oblivious to that, as he was too busy sending his other eyeballs out to scan the swamp.

  “Okay. Let me see… are your companions three men on rafts carrying some sort of grass with them?”

  “No.”

  “Were they herding pigs?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm. How about four people dressed in all black… no, you said they’re dressed like you. An old man meditating on a rock… no, you’re looking for companions. Plural, not singular. Wait, I think I have them. One cranky woman, three boys, two girls, dressed in the same pants that you are.”

  “Yes! Yes, that’s them!”

  “Okay. They’ve set up camp and are cleaning themselves up. They’re also with what looks like three hunters clustered around a boar carcass. Woah! One of the spears just levitated out of the boar! That’s cool. What kind of magic is that?”

  Yao Xiu hesitated to answer, not sure she should trust the intentions of this floating eyeball. “I’m not sure.” The less you say, the less you divulge.

  Martin caught on rather quickly, and allowed himself an audible sigh. “Look, Miss Yao, I’m just trying to help. I’m really sorry for teasing you. My bad, I just couldn’t help it. Would you like me to bring you to your friends now, or would you rather I just go?”

  The girl thought for a moment, considering her choices. Follow the strange floating eyeball called Martin to her possible doom, as she didn’t know if it was telling the truth, or stay here in her wet clothes and risk getting completely lost without any food, water, or warmth to keep her alive.

  She prayed to her ancestors that this little ball wouldn’t steal her soul or anything.

  ***

  Yao Xiu could not stop staring at the little orb as she followed it. Now that she had calmed down and started observing it with a critical eye, she saw more and more details confirming her suspicions. The curvature of the orb, the position of the crystal lens, even the stabilizing fins located on top and on the sides of the orb matched the illustrations drawn by previous historians. She could even remember the specific section in the academy’s archives where those illustrations were located.

  Here she was, a living relic from the past right before her. The historian in her was rejoicing at the opportunity to study a piece of history brought to life. The spiritualist in her, though, was frightened by the idea of ghosts from a long-dead empire coming back to life. The pragmatist in her told her to shut up and watch out where she was going, which saved her from tripping over a fallen vine and face-planting into the mud once again.

  “We’re almost there, Miss Yao.” She looked up and detected smoke rising from a campfire in the distance. Soon enough, she walked through the brush and found herself face-to-face with the rest of her class. Lead Historian Cui Dai wore a furious frown on her face that melted into relief when she saw her charge emerge relatively unharmed from the tree line.

  “Yao Xiu! You’re alright! Oh, thank ancestors!!” It was Cai Ping, his left hand in a sling and his right leg wrapped in a bandage. Still, the sight of her gave him the strength to push himself off the muddy ground and limp toward her. “We thought we had lost you! We were about to go back, form a search party to find you.”

  Yao Xiu turned her gaze to the smiling hunters, who were trussing up one of the boars. A juvenile, from the looks of it, as the mother boar was larger and far bulkier than the one they were handling.

  “I’m alright. What happened to you, though?” she asked, after making a beeline for the fire and gratefully accepting a bowl of soup that warmed her insides.

  “‘I’m alright?’ That’s a pretty half-hearted answer coming from you, girl.” Yao Xiu quietly bristled at the way Song Lan was addressing her. She would have felt insulted enough if it had been a stranger, but someone her own age and her status speaking down to her like that? Those were fighting words. “Cai Ping nearly got gored to death by that stupid pig and her stupid runts because of you, and you just run off like a witless fool without even looking back.”

  Yes, those were definitely fighting words, and Yao Xiu’s anger reached out and reddened her ears. She kept her tongue, however, since the girl berating her was somewhat right. She had panicked, and she had fled deeper into the swamp than she was supposed to.

>   “No, it’s okay, Song Lan,” Cai Ping injected weakly. “It’s not her fault.”

  “Yes it is her fault. Now—”

  “Shut it,” interrupted Lead Historian Cui Dai. “She’s here, you’re here, Cai Ping’s here and not dead—everything’s good. But seriously though,” this time, she turned her attention to Yao Xiu, trying to distract the group before someone could remember that she had refused to bring a guide along. “How did you find us so quickly? We spent the better part of the afternoon shouting around for you and were just about to go back to town to get more people.”

  “Well, you see, there’s this artifact behind me…” Yao Xiu turned, looked around, and found nothing. “…that apparently ran off on me.”

  Everyone stared at her with raised brows and unspoken questions.

  “Artifact, you say?”

  “Yes, lead historian. An artifact, from one of the fallen empires. Remember the orbs? The ones with a lens in the middle and fins on the side and bottom?”

  The older woman tapped her chin and hummed. “Yes… the ritual statues?”

  “They’re not statues. They float in the air, and they talk.”

  “Wait. Have you been eating mushrooms? Smoking hemp?” Song Lan was incredulous, shaking her head and chuckling half in disgust, half in amusement.

  “No, my esteemed peer. I was in complete control of my faculties the whole time.” Just enough sarcasm to transmit her displeasure without rising to the bait and getting into something messier. “I got lost and was trying to start a fire when that thing just came up and offered to guide me to this camp you’ve set up. It called itself Mar-Tin.” The name sounded strange on Yao Xiu’s tongue, with the consonants growling in a way that went against the tongue-rolling naming conventions she was used to.

  It was the lead historian’s turn to frown now. “Yao Xiu, when you fell, did you hit your head on something hard?”

  She could only grit her teeth in frustration. “No, lead historian. I most definitely did not. If I hit my head hard enough to start seeing things, I am pretty sure I would have felt such an impact.”