by Cube Kid
"Runt," I said, accepting his handshake. "Runt Ironfurnace."
We made small talk for a bit after that. Where I came from. Why I'm here. He'd only recently arrived from the capitol. He'd accepted a quest from some townsperson there, a series of errands that eventually sent him here. A quest can be anything, he said. They're often mundane, like his flower hunting quest. Other times, a single quest could involve traveling to all four corners of the world.
Eto stared ahead, as if looking at something a million blocks away. "Like you, I haven't explored all that much. Only recently did I gather up enough courage to leave the safety of the capitol. But I met this guy a few days ago. Good guy. Great player. He's been exploring since day one. While most of us were still cowering in fear, he was setting out. The tales he had, of the places he's been, things he's seen . . . ships, airships, and an underground city that puts the capitol to shame . . . calls himself a treasure hunter."
"When you say ship, you mean boat, right?"
"No. I'm talking about actual ships, with sails and cabins and everything. Actually, that guy has one. Or so he claimed. Said he was a treasure hunter. He and some villager were eventually going to set sail and explore the ocean. And maybe the continent to the north."
"You mean there's more than one continent?"
"Well, that's what he said."
Another. Continent. It felt like I'd been struck by lightning again. Except, a villager turns into a witch when struck by lightning, don't they . . . no, I couldn't have been so lucky. For had I become a witch, maybe I could have at least brewed a potion of some kind to increase my intelligence so that I might possibly understand.
It took eight days, on foot, to travel a tiny little distance on that map. There could be thousands of villages on Ardenvell, and just as many towns, cities and castles. And now, some human is telling me there's more than one continent?!
"It's pretty strange, though," he said. "Despite his accomplishments, that guy can't even remember his own name. He only knows his name starts with an S."
"That is pretty strange."
"Yeah." He glanced at the door. "Speaking of friends, I have to get going. I'm supposed to meet up with someone."
"All right. I guess I should say thanks. For everything."
He nodded. "And hey. If you decide to try that dungeon, I suggest getting someone to tag along. Never try soloing one. Seeya around?"
And just like that, my new friend took off, leaving me with a lot of unanswered questions.
I couldn't stop thinking about what he told me. I envisioned a ship sailing across countless ocean biomes, airships skipping across the clouds, and an underground city filled entirely with dwarves. Yet, as wonderful as all of that seemed, it was nothing compared to the small obsidian key in my hand.
DAY 7—FRIDAY—UPDATE IV
The storm had mostly cleared by the time I left the shop.
I made my way to the village square, since a lot people seemed to enjoy hanging out there.
I quickly bumped into that girl from earlier—the one with cat ears—and of course that loud-mouthed dwarf. They were replenishing their food bars. When I asked if they could help me out, they spit out bits of cake.
"Let me get this straight," the dwarf said. "You want us to join you on a dungeon quest."
"That's right."
"And you've . . . never actually been in a dungeon."
"I haven't," I said, "but I'll do my very best! I'm a quick learner! I can carry stuff, too! Think of me as an extra inventory. And an extra pair of arms. Whenever you need a healing potion, I'll be right there! Potion support, that's me! I'll uncork those potions so fast, those zombies will think you have ten life bars!" Then I sighed. "Basically, I just . . . really need emeralds."
The dwarf chuckled. "I'm sure you do, but dungeons are no place for the inexperienced. I'd feel guilty if something happened to ya."
"I'm afraid he's right," the girl with cat ears said. "Dungeons usually contain powerful monsters. They're much stronger than what you find in the Overworld. And they're the least of your worries, too. The traps are even worse. If you set one off, that's it. Someone will probably find your items a day or two later, and they'll thank you, because you'll have shown them where not to step."
"Oh. Okay. Well, um, thanks. Yeah, see you. Good luck. Yep. You, too."
After they headed out, I stood around for a few minutes, looking for a possible companion. There had to have been someone who wanted to go with me. Very few people were alone, though. The few I approached avoided eye contact, or otherwise politely declined.
"Dungeon? Nope. I'm waiting for someone."
"Nah. I don't do dungeons."
"Some other time."
Right then, my face must have displayed a wide variety of emotions. Confusion. Frustration. Helplessness. Sorrow. Despair. Doubt. Basically, imagine a pigman who had been zapped by lighting like eight times over the course of a week. Imagine how crazy he must have felt after that eighth time. Imagine his face. That was pretty much my face.
It was beginning to feel like everything I'd learned in school wasn't of much use. At least not out here. The Overworld was a totally different world from the one I'd read about, thought about, and dreamed about night after night. A noob. I really was a clueless noob all over again. Which wouldn't have been so bad, if I didn't have to be one alone . . .
On top of that, my luck was running out. That became obvious when I heard a deep grunt behind me, like a monstrous pig. I slowly turned around.
DAY 7—FRIDAY—UPDATE V
"You! Villager! Ogre dare!"
Past the villagers, past a hundred or so other people chatting away, a pigman was approaching. A pigman in black leather armor covered in crude iron spikes. I knew it had to have been one of the monsters hunting Kolb, so I turned away and started walking. Until I felt a hand upon my shoulder. I whirled around to beady black eyes and a square pink nose. And breath so hideous it probably could have mined netherrack.
"Hey!" the pigman said. "I was speaking to you!"
"You were? Are you sure? I thought I heard you calling for some villager."
"Is that not what you are?"
I looked down at myself. "Do I look like a villager to you? Do you see a robe?"
"No, but your . . ." He pointed to his nose. "Enough! I am Reh, servant of the great and powerful God-King known as The Eyeless One, The Forever Eternal, The One True Wizard, He Who . . . " He paused, as though he'd forgotten the rest, then grunted angrily. "You are to come with me to Stormgarden Keep for questioning!"
God-King? So that's what they call him, huh? Yeah, and what about this guy's name? His name is Reh? What kind of monster name is that? All things considered, he's lucky I'm such a nice guy. A less composed warrior would have already attacked this ridiculously-named pigman as a matter of principle!
"First of all," I said, "that's an amazing title. Really. God-King, One True Wizard . . . just wow. Admittedly, Forever Eternal is slightly redundant, but still, it does have a certain ring to it. Anyway, with that being said, I'd love to go with you, I would, but . . . it really depends."
"On what?"
"Well . . . during the interrogation, will you be serving milk and cookies?"
He grumbled and drew his obsidian sword. That meant he didn't like milk and cookies! What sacrilege! And here I thought we could be friends!
Suddenly, I heard Kolb's voice in my mind. A speech he once gave to his fellow clan members: You are members of the Lost Legion! As such, you are the very definition of OP! The hardest of the hardcore! The bravest souls in all the land! Walking tanks who wade into the armies of He Who Would Never Wear Sunglasses! Without fear! Without mercy!
I drew my sword to the glass-like ring of diamond.
What followed was an epic battle. All you could hear were the sounds of our swords clashing against one another over and over, along with pig-like grunts and shouts from the surrounding people, who were gathering by the second now, asking each other things like:
"Am I seeing this right? Is that two NPCs fighting?"
I blocked so many of my opponent's attacks. I'd been working on my block moves for weeks. So now, one nanosecond after that sword came flying at me, I put up my own to the clash of diamond on obsidian. I could go on like this, but it was a boring fight, technically speaking. I blocked. He blocked. I blocked. He blocked. I blocked. Okay, cool. He didn't block. Repeat this like thirty or so times, his life bar inching down, half a heart at a time until nothing, anymore, just emptiness, blank spaces between a string of heart-shaped outlines.
That's right.
I, being the noble and talented gentleswordsman that I am—possessing far superior wit and consummate skill at arms—rid the world of such foul, netherrack-wilting stench.
The humanoid pig sank with a low, sad moan. "Urggguuu~~!!"
I returned my sword to the scabbard on my back before he hit the ground. (A total pro move, by the way. At least one farmer was impressed. I heard him gasp.) There was a slight wind as glowing experience orbs flew from the pigman's body, into mine, and I felt the familiar rush of XP gain; afterward, eerie silence, particularly in front of me—there on the ground—as what had once been a monster dissolved into smoke.
More ramblings from all the onlookers, now. Many of them were armed. Adventurers, explorers. Couldn't they have helped me out?!
"What's happening?" someone asked.
"Is this part of a quest event?" asked someone else.
"Maybe it is," said a third. "I say we stick around and find out!"
But here are the questions they should have been asking. Where's the pigman's armor? How about the pigman's sword?
Like the pigman himself, his items had quickly evaporated into nothingness, puffs of smoke. Pretty rude. Aspiring evil wizards, take note: if you're going to send your minions after someone, make sure said minions don't drop any items. At least this way, if your minions fail, the person you're after won't have anything to show for it. They'll just be wasting time. So the Eyeless One really is as terrible as they say . . . so heartless! That pigman could have at least dropped an emerald or something!
Moments later, five more pigmen charged from the crowd, where they surrounded me, swords drawn. All right, I admit it: at this point, I was definitely contemplating going with them, even if they weren't going to be serving milk and cookies, because surrendering would mean living to fight enjoy milk and cookies another day.
"Hey, guys." My gaze swept across so many square pink faces. "How are you? About that interrogation. I——"
Suddenly, I heard the sound of hooves on gravel. Whoever it was, they were approaching fast. I struggled to get a better look, past the countless shoulders, past the hats and helmets and ridiculous hairstyles.
At last, I saw her.
She rode into view so confidently, gracefully, in full control of her horse, as though she had been riding all of her life. As though she belonged out here. As though there was no better place for her to be.
After leaping from her horse, she drew two blades, one with each hand. Only then did I notice the faint, colorful motes swirling in the air around her. The visual effects of multiple potions. But far more noticeable was the angry expression on what was, normally, such an innocent-looking face.
Grunting in unison, the pigmen slowly turned. They had no idea what was in store for them. If they had, they would have most likely thrown down their weapons on the spot, then denounced their beloved God-King. "Herobrine?!" they would have exclaimed. "What are you talking about?! Is that some kind of pickle?!"
Instead, two of them pointed at her and, clutching their stomachs, actually laughed.
I suppose that's one of her many strengths. Pebble once said that, after class. They'd been assigned as dueling partners. That duel started with him turning back to his friends and smirking. It ended with him face down in the mud. You'd never think a wooden sword could be so dangerous until you saw her wield one in Intro To Combat.
All right, so I take back what I said about that first battle. This battle was the epic one. The way we moved together, swords flashing . . . it was something out of a fairy tale. And it felt just like the old days, when we fought back to back, our victory uncertain. One after another we took each of them down, until there were no monsters left, only gravel and cobblestone, chiseled quartz. A sea of people cheering.
"After this," someone said, "maybe those pigmen will finally leave us alone."
"Yeah," said another, "but it's strange to see NPCs handling things. It really must be some kind of quest event. A secret one. Let's hang around this village for a little longer, huh?"
And in the middle of them all were two villagers named Breeze and Runt. I still couldn't believe she was here.
"How did you find me?" I asked.
"The mayor told me everything," she said. "They were keeping it a secret."
So Kolb must have told the council, I thought, and the council decided to keep my mission a secret? They probably didn't want everyone to panic. Knowing villagers, they would have.
"I'm really glad to see you," I said.
"Me too." She gave me a hug. "So . . . what happened?"
"Long story on that. In short, I'm on a quest, and we're going to a dungeon."
"A dungeon?"
"I'll tell you on the way. First, we should go trading. We need supplies. C'mon. Most of the shops are that way."
She grabbed me by the shoulder. "My horse is over there."
"Oh." I grimaced. How embarrassing. And here's hoping she doesn't ask about——
"By the way," she said, "where's Meadow?"
"Who's Meadow?"
"Um, Kolb's horse? A rare charger with an enchanted saddle?"
Charger? Is that a type of horse? Well, that horse didn't look so special to me. And was that saddle really enchanted? It did feel really comfortable, like sitting on a block of feathers.
Another grimace.
. . . embarrassing.
DAY 7—FRIDAY—VI
Atop Breeze's gilded horse, Shybiss, we set out to do some trading.
I needed armor and potions, after all, and both of us needed more food. At least one shopkeeper was about to have a good day.
However, our very first trade was with ourselves. Not items. Information. I went over everything I'd experienced and learned so far. My strange encounters on the road. Feathers. The absurd price of an advanced crafting table. The absurd price of everything. What that human had told me about quests, dungeons and keys.
As for Villagetown, it was just as I'd thought: the mayor told everyone that I was in trouble, and that I wouldn't be seen again until I was done filling five double item chests with potato-based food items. Okay, so I'd never expected him to do that, but I did call him lying to avoid a total panic.
"What was I supposedly being punished for?" I asked.
"The paper."
"The paper? Oh. Yeah. The paper."
I'd forgotten all about that paper. We were supposed to write about why we'd chosen our profession. Twenty pages, filled. They were due the very same morning I'd set out. Of course, I, being the studious warrior-scholar that I am, finished writing that paper. That night I left, just before falling asleep, I filled each of those twenty pages with one single, massive word—or letter. Well, the last two pages had crude drawings. One of the monster's forest burning, another with a zombie crying, but still. Twenty pages, filled.
"Of course, I couldn't help feeling that something was wrong," Breeze said. "It was odd. Why would they lock you up in a house? Still, I didn't learn the truth until two days ago, when I overheard Kolb speaking to the mayor and my father. I stormed up to them and demanded the truth. They told me everything, then sent me to go find you. Said you should have been back by now."
"Yeah? How was I supposed to know horses just run off like that?" I sighed. "Okay, what about the others? Is anyone else coming?"
"No. I'm the only one who knows. They're all training. Exploring. We've already spent several nights outsi
de. Some of the humans made watch towers. Beacons, they call them. Also . . ."
Breeze told me how she'd traded for some new items for her journey. The outfit she was wearing now. A black wool tunic, black wool skirt, and black leather boots. The tunic and skirt, made from wool, provided as much armor as leather, and gave bonuses to stealth and movement speed. The boots had similar stats, as well as a bonus to jump height. Such bonuses suited her. For Breeze was the type who cherished mobility. That was her style. One she employed to full effect.
"I also traded for this," she said, and drew an emerald sword from its scabbard. That was one of the swords she'd wielded earlier. It looked just like a diamond sword, only brilliant green—I simply hadn't noticed the color. "It's a bit better than diamond," she said. "Same average damage, but with a slightly faster attack speed." She glanced back at me and smiled. "After making friends with a few human girls, I found they have a lot of interesting items like this."
"How about those arrows?" I asked. "Did you trade for those, too?"
"No. Sophia and Talia gave them to me. I almost declined, but figured weakness arrows could come in handy out here."
"Huh. Where'd they find all that stuff?"
"Dungeons, I guess. Before they arrived at Villagetown."
"That's good to know. Hopefully the one we're going to will be filled with items like that. We really need to upgrade. Those pigmen were——"
Breeze stirred in the saddle. "What's that?"
Behind her, I followed her gaze to a temple-like building. It was built entirely of white quartz.
At first, I thought it was a church of some kind. Breeze suggested that as well. A sign above the door read: Temple of Entity. Another sign read: Donation Pit Inside. I had no idea what a Donation Pit was, but I knew it had something to do with charity. As in giving things away. As in alms for the poor. And, guess who was currently the poorest person in Owl's Reach? Surely they could spare a handful of emeralds for this humble peasant.