Chapter 29: To The Dungeon (Part 3)
"How much do you bench, bro?! What the… are the rest of us just weak as shit?"
"No…" Julian didn't really know how to respond to that, "By the way I was told by the scientists at Humanity Engineering that hyums are about five times stronger than humans? Wouldn't that mean that I am—I mean this body, my clone, would be about fifteen times stronger than a typical human?"
"Well… I don't think it works exactly like that. I mean, sure, hyums are naturally stronger, but if it were as simple as multiplying strength, higher-level folks would be like literal monsters. But... Huh… I've never really thought about that. Chat?" Cyrus blinked several times, clearly thrown off by Julian's question. "Hey, chat—does anyone know if that's how it works?"
Cyrus's eyes moved wildly for a few seconds before shaking his head.
"Yeah… I'm not reading all of that," Cyrus waved his hand, "But listen, Sword Junkie. You don't need to worry about it too much. While there are people here who can lift entire houses here, but they're usually above level 100 and busy exploring Artemia."
"100…?" Julian breathed in, "What's… the highest level anyone has ever reached here then?"
"Well… according to their history and legends," Cyrus stopped walking for a moment, meeting Julian's gaze, "the Eldazen who led the war against the Gnarfolks was level 250. They said she could cut an entire mountain with her blade."
"What…?" Julian tilted his head in confusion.
"Yeah. The Great War?" Cyrus narrowed his eyes. "Didn't… you read the handbook that came with the LinkGear?"
"I'm blind," Julian deadpanned.
"What I meant is didn't your AI explain any of this to you?"
"I skipped most of the tutorials," Julian sighed.
"Man… you should really listen to your AI more," Cyrus chuckled, "She's like… really helpful."
A hint of a smile crawled on Julian's face as he saw MEGAN bombarding him with messages.
"Anyway," Cyrus cleared his throat and continued, "the Eldazens are a different race from hyums. They're shorter, like half the size, but they are… proportionate. And they are a really, really beautiful people, Julian. Like… really."
"But you also don't have to worry about meeting any of them soon, though," Cyrus sighed. "I once traveled to their country for a stream, but they turned me away as soon as we docked on the harbor. Spent weeks in a ship, but nope—no dice. Lost a ton of subscribers over it, too. Something happened along the way and... I don't think they like hyums anymore."
"And the Gnarfolks?" Julian asked.
"Oh… Oho… They're the ones you really need to worry about," Cyrus explained. "Horns, tails, bigger than you, the whole deal. They're a lot calmer and peaceful now a hundred years after the war, but they're still a savage race. And if there's one thing the Order of Artemia hates more than players… it's those gray, horned bears. Honestly, the racism in this world could do a little work."
"You… know a lot, Cyrus," Julian was impressed by his knowledge.
"I do this for a living, Julian. And seeing as you're part of the Otherworld Project, you should know all of this too." Cyrus replied with a smirk. "But enough of that…
…3 people just donated 300 credits each back to back! Thank them, thank them, Julian!"
"300…" Julian's eyes widened at Cyrus's words, "Wait… that's 900 credits…?"
"Oh, yes…" Cyrus grinned.
"In just this stream?" Julian's breath slightly turned heavy at the thought, "Just in one day?"
"Newbie, that's still not counting the smaller donations," Cyrus clicked his tongue several times and wagged his finger, "Those add up. Like, really add up."
"Shouldn't…" Julian's breath hitched, "...Shouldn't we thank them too?"
"Oh, Sword Junkie…" Cyrus placed his hand on Julian's shoulder, "If you thank everyone, we won't be able to move from here."
"There's that… many?" Julian's breaths once again turned heavy.
"Yes, that's why you should only thank…" Cyrus leaned in closer to whisper the names.
"Uhh…" Julian gulped as he memorized the names. And after a few seconds, Cyrus leaned away from him—making sure the chat was seeing him. "Are you sure we're doing this here...? The Order of-"
"Relax. Most people don't care." Cyrus gestured to Julian to go on. "Despite what Humanity Engineering wants you to believe, hyums are pretty chill. In fact, I'm telling you this... more hyums probably hate the Order than us so-called 'Evil Spirits'. Most don't even believe we exist, and there's even another church opposing the Order, very much like our situation back home."
"Hm..."
"Now go on... go. Enough learning about the lore and history of Artemia. You have people to thank."
"Uhm.. T… thank you, Radh… Ashwin, and Benihaniman?" He almost even fumbled the names. And before he could even relax—
"Ah! Another one donated! So… so many whales!" Cyrus once again raised his voice and leaned closer to Julian.
"Thank you, Kirisuk for the donation." Julian waved his hand to acknowledge the donator.
"And… that should be it, or does anyone else want to follow? No?" Cyrus waited for a few more seconds. And when there was no one else making a large donation, the two finally moved on—but from how Cyrus was still whispering to himself, it would seem there were still people donating.
How was he even able to keep up with all of the chat?
Once he learns to read, will he also be doing that…?
***
"Cyrus, you bitch!"
And soon, they reached the inn and met with the people waiting for them… but judging from their expressions, they might not be too pleased.
"Do you know how long we've been waiting here!?" The smallest member of the group was the first to speak. And from how she sounded, she seemed extremely young… too young to be part of Otherworld.
It was a bit ironic, however, as she was the one who was wearing the bulkiest armor between the three, with a longsword that was almost as tall as her entire body.
"T…Talia…" Cyrus awkwardly laughed as he approached the group.
"Not cool, man. Definitely not cool." The tallest and skinniest one in the group muttered, shaking his head in disappointment after taking off his hood.
"Dyrroth, Talia, come on!" Cyrus chuckled nervously, raising both hands in surrender. "You know me! If I'm late, it's for a very, very good reason!"
"Huh…" The last member of the group, a middle-aged, bald man with a stern expression, stepped forward, his focus not on Cyrus but on Julian. He looked Julian up and down, seemingly sizing him up.
"So… this is the newbie that's been causing all that buzz, huh?" the man grunted.
"Ah, Titus. Yes!" Cyrus quickly stepped between them as he noticed Titus doing something. "This is the man of the hour, the one everyone's talking about—the Sword Junkie!"
Titus ignored Cyrus's dramatic introduction, still examining Julian from head to toe. "You military, boy?"
"...No," Julian replied, unsure of where this conversation was headed.
"Well, you should be," Titus muttered, circling Julian as if inspecting him. "We could use more guys like you instead of all those cyberware-obsessed motherfuckers who seem like they're still sucking on their mama's titties."
"Uh…"
"You've got real strength there, bud." Titus smirked, "Good to see some fucking meat on the bones for once. I'm guessing you have a huge willy too?"
"What the—Woah! Woah! Alright. Ha… Hahaha!" Cyrus quickly raised both his hands and his voice as he stared Titus in the eyes.
"Titus, let's keep things friendly here," he laughed nervously, glancing at the chat and back at the group. "This is a PG stream, remember? We're gonna get cancelled if you're too much."
"Tch." Titus scoffed as he crossed his arms. "Weaklings complain too much these days. You don't like what I say? Then shoot me in the face, I dare ya. Newbie, how about it? Want to join the military?"
"...You're not even from the same country, Titus." Cyrus groaned.
"There's only one country now, boy. And that's Earth—those Martians and moon dwellers are getting a little too comfortable up there and need to be reminded of something." Titus scoffed.
"Uh… Titus, seriously," Cyrus whispered loudly as he pointed at his eyes, "Buddy, bro, we're live."
"Yeah, yeah," Titus muttered, "Those pussies are—"
"Titus!"
While Cyrus tried to handle Titus, the smaller member of the group, Talia, approached Julian.
"I'm Talia," she said, introducing herself with a peace sign that Julian had no idea the meaning of just yet.
The tall, skinny one followed suit, holding out a fist to Julian. "Dyrroth, what's up, bro?"
Julian, unfamiliar with the gesture, shook Dyrroth's fist instead of bumping it with his own.
"My name's Julian Winters."
"Right on, brother. Full name and all," Dyrroth chuckled while nodding, "I dig that, eyy."
The introductions seemed to relax the tension somewhat, but Titus still kept his arms crossed, watching Julian carefully. But after a few awkward seconds, Cyrus cleared his throat loudly.
"Alright, folks!" he announced to the chat and the group. "We've wasted enough time. It's time to run some dungeons!"
Or so that should have been the case—but they still actually had to travel and leave Ethaca.
Fortunately for them and the chat, the dungeon Julian was going to was only half an hour's walk from Ethaca—and Cyrus spent the entire time talking without pause to keep the chat completely entertained.
Truly, a professional.
"So… this is a dungeon?"
Julian had seen countless strange things since gaining the ability to see in Artemia, things he couldn't quite explain because he didn't really understand them—but this… this was something else. As he stood there, staring at the structure before him, a wave of confusion and awe washed over him.
Cyrus had already explained what dungeons were to him, comparing them to… trees. And looking at it now, Julian could see why. The thick, gnarled roots, the vines twisting and wrapping around themselves like veins, and the bark-like exterior all gave it that familiar shape.
But this wasn't just any tree. No, this… thing was shaped like a mouth—a massive, breathing, living mouth formed entirely of vines and roots.
It pulsed. It moved. It breathed.
From a distance, it was hard to even see properly, despite the fact that the area around it was clear for half a mile—and yet here it was. But maybe that was just him… Julian still wasn't used to seeing things, after all.
"I feel something…" Julian crouched down; tilting his head to the side as he placed his hand on the ground. "I feel… a pulse."
Cyrus stepped forward, ensuring his eyes were capturing every angle of the eerie entrance with Julian on it.
"Well, remember how I told you that a dungeon is alive?" Cyrus cleared his throat. "I was being literal—the dungeon is alive and sentient, Julian. The Pores of Artemia, or as I'd like to personally call it, Artemis' Pimples."
The Pores of Artemia–the way Cyrus explained it to him back in the cafe, they are living, organic… pathways, in a way. They differ from each other, and the insides sometimes shift randomly—and perhaps the most important thing he told him…
…is that it is filled with monsters.
"But… can you really feel it?" Cyrus asked, "...That the dungeon is alive?"
"Yes," Julian breathed out as a small hint of a smile crawled on his face, "It's… beautiful."
"Uh…" Julian blinked a couple of times as MEGAN started typing words he couldn't understand just yet.
"Yes," Julian then turned his attention back to Cyrus, "It's like… it's breathing."
"Well then," Cyrus clapped his hands together, taking a step back toward the others. "Let's get this show on the road. It's time to see what's inside!"
Julian straightened up, his grip tightening around the sword and the shield he had taken from Bran's smithy. But as he took a step forward, he noticed that Titus and the others were several meters behind him.
"Aren't we all going in together?" He asked.
"Oh, don't worry about them," Cyrus grinned. "This is your dungeon run, Sword Junkie. You're the star here. They'll be right behind you if things get bad, but for the most part, you're running this entire thing solo."
Titus stepped forward, resting his fist on Julian's shield. "Don't sweat it, Recruit. We'll be watching your back. Nothing's happening to you."
Talia nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! You'll be fine. We call this a beginner's dungeon for a reason—nothing's gonna happen!"
"That's right…" Cyrus couldn't help but smirk at Talia and Titus's comment. "That's right… nothing will happen." He whispered, "Keep setting those flags up…
…I'm sure nothing would happen."
"Flags…?" Julian glanced at Cyrus, a little unsure of what he meant, but before he could question it further, the dungeon's 'mouth' let out a deep, guttural sound, the vines shifting slightly as if urging him to enter.
"Well, okay then…" Julian took a deep breath, nodded to the others, and stepped forward into the unknown,
"...For Ellie."