An hour has passed since we infiltrated "The Keep of Ruin."
At first both of us thought that Eden's people just liked keeping their old ways and are using it in tandem with modern technology. And then we thought we were in the past.
However, it was quite foolish to even assume these two scenarios.
The hints were always there.
The foot walk of prisoners and even the man escorting them in such harsh weather instead of using any kind of vehicle, the uneven pathway that was the only way to-and-fro to "The Keep." The people who were all clad in old robes.
It all should've indicated towards the fact that Eden has not progressed much at all. Technologically, it can't even be compared to Earth.
And while humans had a natural tendency to develop faster, it still has been millions of years. The amount of progress that they have achieved so far is debilitatingly low. As if they're still stuck somewhere between Renaissance and Medieval Era.
It's uncanny. And it makes my guts churn.
After entering the main gate, there is a straight path that leads to a huge infrastructure, several kilometres ahead. It was a huge circular, stadium shaped structure with no room for windows. Or any other thing. Just fancily built walls that spanned over a huge area and then closed upwards in a pointed shape.
A single spire stood tall right by its side and a man was on duty. I tried to keep my Arcanum usage barely minimum, which is why I couldn't tell much about the man stationed there. However, I could still tell he was an archer since he had a quiver attached to his back.
The footpath that led to the huge infrastructure was much better than the muddy pathway we had encountered on our way to this place. It was made out of some kind of concrete, obvious cracks visible here and there. However, it was only around 7 feet wide. And the pathway was only made from the entrance towards the huge structure.
The rest of the houses, shops and other things were made on muddy ground. Their designs were simple, mostly just in cube and rectangular shapes. All of them were single storey, made out of materials that looked like bamboo with a lot of mud over it to protect against the heat.
Back to the colosseum looking structure, it would seem like that this huge structure holds great importance. Why else would someone go out of their way to make a narrow road right from the entrance.
The edges of this road or pathway were lined with some kind of powder.
Crouching down below, I tried to touch it.
"You bastard there!" A voice called out suddenly. "Don't touch it. Unless you want to have your hands cut by those damned Imperials."
Looking up, I saw the man who had spoken. It was a tall man with a long beard and pristine pale skin. His long orange hair was sprawled all over his forehead and a pair of obsidian, knife-like horns jutted out of the citrus locks. His pale orange eyes met mine for a fleeting second as he waved his hand.
"Get your act together, boy. Don't get killed when you just arrived."
Saying those words he turned around.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Michael asked from behind me.
He was still using the appearance changing artefact, although his horns shape had changed. There were now just two small stubs instead of the long, regal looking ones. His horns were indeed attracting a lot of attention.
We were impersonating someone from the Cromwells. A ruling demon family. It fooled the trolls and the guards, but the closer we got to the base of operations, the harder it would be to keep up this fiasco. It was better to pose as an ordinary demon and his servant than as a Cromwell.
We didn't know much about Demons, however, from the available evidence and how people were reacting to Michael, it would seem like the type of horns determine the hierarchy amongst Demons. But that is not what's important right now.
"There is something really wrong going on." I replied to his question, not leaving the pure white powder that was sprinkled all along the pathway.
"Yeah, no shit." He shuffled underneath his robe. "It's hot as fuck."
"Yeah, no shit." I copied him. "We are literally in a hot desert. It would've been strange if it wasn't hot." Pausing for a brief second and enjoying the small moment of victory in the verbal back-and-forth, I spoke once again. "As for the thing I said before… it definitely had a much bigger involvement."
"Hot desert. Hah. No need to specify."
There are cold deserts as well...well, nevermind.
He stood by my side and then tilted forward, taking a peek in at the powdered trail alongside the pathway.
"Looks like just another white mark over a road."
"It's not even a mark." I argued back. Perhaps it was just my intuition, but it seemed really suspicious. "It looks more like a guiding path…" I felt my voice fade away, carried away by the skin burning gust of wind. "…but for what?"
"You're just overthinking it." Michael waved his hand. "You told your girl you'll be back in two days, eh?"
"Mhmm." I hummed back at him, looking around myself.
The air was abuzz with the resonant cacophony of weapons being forged and was saturated with the metallic aroma of freshly crafted weapons, their distinctive tang mingling with the rich, heady scent of molten metal.
"Then you better hurry. It's about to be nighttime soon."
I peeled my eyes away from the pathway. "We still need to gather some intel."
"I'll be heading to the pub then." Michael just said that and turned around.
Extending my hand and holding him by the back of his robe, I stopped him. "We don't have time to drink."
"You don't." He smirked, "I am gonna taste the booze here. Ain't no law here to stop me, MUAHAHA!"
Cackling out loud, he broke free of my hold and crossed the pathway, heading straight for the pub, leaving me all alone and my hand suspended in midair.
Biting back the urge to stab him several times and spill his guts all over the ground, I turned around as well.
The other things can wait. I have to know about the colosseum and the weird powder.
Turning on my heel, I faced towards the huge area that was a congregation of weaponries of different kinds. Some were forging swords, some spears and some daggers.
Letting out a deep breath, I started to move as fast as I could while drawing minimal attention.
My heart fluttered excitedly inside my chest as I reached for the bare minimum of the Arcanum necessary to cast my SONAR spell. It wasn't either a complicated spell, nor a strong offensive one. It was just a steady outflux and influx of a specific frequency of sound waves.
The new, purified form of Arcanum which I had absorbed after coming to Eden, condensed and then burst like a firework, spreading like a tidal wave all over the place. The steady wave was interrupted by tangible objects as I took in the information about everything.
The shape of the buildings, people, weapons. People with different physiologies. I could feel it all. It was a much different sensation than the basic five senses I was used to. There was no sensory input. Just a steady stream of information bombarding my mind.
A constant bombardment, and yet it wasn't an unpleasant experience.
It had always been like this.
Whenever I use this and feel it all hit me at once, it ignites an exhilarating rush, an intoxicating high that I can't just get quite enough of. A high obtained by expanding my senses that surpassed that of a mortal. There is an unknown thrill in knowing that I am privy to information beyond the grasp of ordinary minds.
Now that we had already infiltrated the place and barely had 24 hours, I could not be too cautious.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.
I almost jumped out of the way as the air crackled with authority. "Don't slack now, you dimwits."
Taking a sharp, screeching turn as my feet dug into the muddy ground, I hid behind the back-wall of a forgery making swords. Peeking subtly from the side, I saw a man standing on a bucket.
Loose long hair that reached up to his middle back and a pair of slit violet eyes. And while that wasn't a feature that was uncommon, the two sharp horns with grooves that bent upward after extending down from his temples was what made him stand out the most. The same horns that Michael had imagined atop his head.
Just with a different orientation.
He looked here and there, a frown adorning his face like a permanent part of it. Even when it eased out for a fleeting moment, the deep creases formed on his face gave him the look of a perpetually angry and sour man. He almost smiled and I followed his line of sight, however, the frown returned back to his face as soon as the cloaked man removed his hood.
"Sire, Good Evening, sire." A short, chubby man greeted, getting on both of his knees. From his messy, curly hair to his dirty clothes, long beard to the round- almost square chubby body screamed that he was a Dwarf.
The man looked down at him with an unhidden disdain. "What is it, Brogan? It better not be idle chatter."
His voice was commanding, albeit not as condescending as one would think of based on first impressions. "I am already in a bad mood because of that old bat wandering off without telling me."
"Of course, Sire Ed. It's about your weapon." He rose up to his feet and nervously and somewhat excitedly rubbed his hands together.
"Fine. Just know that if its enchantment is still not complete, I will have your head on the spike and have it thrown to the Wujins for wasting my precious time."
The dwarf shivered visibly and shrunk back, his already small stature looking even more miniscule now. Even the extremely broad shoulders didn't help the fact that he had caved his body in, as if trying to appear as small as he could.
"Of course, sire... I would never waste your time."
Saying that, he started to walk towards the decently sized rectangular workshop. It didn't have any doors or covers to hide the people working inside. The hearth was aflame in the middle of it and the flames and molten metal drowned the entire workplace in a colourful mix of golden and orange in the progressively darkening place.
As they walked side-by-side, I sneakily walked behind them and started running once again. It was getting dark. Before Michael gets too drunk and starts to blow our cover, I need to at least know what the deal with the colosseum is.
Weaving past another dwarf that was carrying two pints in his hands, I dodged bumping into him as he muttered a string of curses. I casted one sidelong look at him before running again.
I got hold of my Arcanum and maintained the bare minimum of my attention towards running. Expanding the scale of my senses, I focused on finding anyone who might have a potent Arcanum signature. My speed slowed, however, once again I felt like I was drifting over everyone.
However, unlike Earth…this was breathtaking.
The way Arcanum gathered and swirled in the air, painting the dull canvas of this world with the beautiful- breathtaking colours was so, so beautiful. I took in the sight of the huge dots of Arcanum- which were the people carrying it- one by one, probing for the biggest one of them.
I spotted one, just behind me. The place I had left a while ago. It must belong to the man who the Dwarf referred to as Sire. Another Arcanum signature blipped brightly. It shone like a star whose brilliance couldn't be snuffed out even by the unimaginable distance.
Michael, I noticed. It was him.
Even though from the stillness of his Arcanum signature I could tell that he was not in any kind of skirmish, it still blossomed like a flower in spring bloom. Quality and quantity, he was superior to me in both those aspects.
It was enviable.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I focused on the area that was still unexplored. Varying frequencies of waves also washed out of me and flooded over the entire "Keep," as I once again took in everything.
Most of the people were now trickling out of the forges and started gravitating toward the few spots designated for socialising. Probably the local watering holes—pubs—and...
"Ahnnn~"
Ahem... establishments of a more intimate nature.
Yes, it would seem like brothels managed to make their way into a place like this as well. It was a surprise honestly. Since other races can't copulate that much. I guess they changed after so long.
The same moan blasted in my ears once again, this time extended and more erotic, full of lust.
I cringed, quickly releasing the dominion over the information pouring from that part of this small town-like place.
It was a real buzzkill. The same heightened senses that made me feel like a transcended being ended, causing a real pain in the… neck.
Oh, how I wished I could just unsee and unhear what I'd stumbled upon.
But hey, what could I have done? Just gotta roll with it, I guess.
As my heightened senses returned back to normal, I looked around myself. I had already reached the towering spire that was a few yards away from the colosseum.
I dispelled every last hint of Arcanum augmenting my body and then sealed off the primary node, not letting a single drop of Arcanum leak out. With my back against the base of the spire, I tried to walk right underneath the guard's nose that was stationed right above me, on the observatory of the spire.
As I took a step forward, an arrow whistled past my ear.
"You there, halt!"
Oh well…
As the man jumped from around 50 feet, I let my Arcanum burst out wildly as well. Extending my hand towards him, I took a hold of the arrow inside his quiver. The arrow jolted, shaking for a while before dislodging itself from the quiver's lock and flew right into my hand.
As the man landed with a barely perceptible sound, I swivelled around and barely held his neck in a chokehold with my right arm. His shoulders were broad enough to make me barely able to hold him in place.
A dwarf.
His elbow drove into my exposed left, crashing against the ribs with an overwhelming intensity as the Arcanum was still in the process of flowing seamlessly after the primary node was sealed.
I held the arrow tight in my hand and Arcanum pulsed like blood flowing through it. Swinging it in a straight line, I attacked his neck. However, his wide hand covered in leather caught a hold of it, stopping it midway.
And then, the ground beneath ripped itself apart making me lose my hold over the man.
Something akin to a dark cyclone jumped upwards from the fissure into the ground, followed by tens, if not hundreds of needle-thin black spikes.
I swung my arm as fast as I could, using the arrow as a rapier.
A few needles lodged themselves into my flesh and pinned the robes fabric right over the bleeding wound.
As I looked up, I saw another dwarf with a huge mace in one hand and the other resting over the one before, patting him.
"You good, Birta?"
"Yes, Gunnar."
They exchanged quick pleasantries as I yanked the spikes out of my skin. The wet and warm sensation of blood flowing out lingered only for a fleeting few seconds before vanishing as Arcanum started to do what little healing it could.
Since my Arcanum didn't have healing properties, it could not heal me. At least not like how Astrid's Arcane Arts can.
It was quite dark now and I couldn't exactly catch their features over the rush of adrenaline in my veins, however, going by the names' basis and the slight difference in their voices' pitch, one of them was a woman. The one I had caught and tried to kill before.
The one called Gunnar flicked his head in my direction. "Not only were you trespassing into 'The Black Pit of Death,' you just tried to kill the guard as well." He spoke in a much calmer way. "Even if you are a demon, this treason warrants immediate death."
It was not the words that made me jump in subtle fright but the thing that he conjured out of thin air. Another mace with streaks of orange running all along it pulsed into the progressively increasing dark of the night fell into his hand after appearing from a flash of white.
That wasn't any Arcane Art. This is new.
I had never heard of weapons appearing out of thin air.
Maybe they did advance. Just not in the way we did, but rather in a magical way. That would make much more sense.
Lowering my stance, I pointed the tip of my arrow towards the dwarves.
"Traitorous Demon."
The corner of my lips curved into a smirk as I pulled my hood back and shook my head backwards, removing the locks of hair that had stuck to my face due to the constant precipitation.
"Oh, I am not a demon." I mocked. "I am something far filthier."
The light of Gunnar's mace pulsating illuminated his features for a brief second revealing a single braid of red hair resting on left shoulder and a chest length red beard.
His black eyes were wide, as if suspended in a constant state of shock before shakily murmuring.
"A…human"
"You people are so racist. It's sad at this point. Not to mention oddly obnoxious."
Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but I could oddly feel my lips curve into a smirk time and time again. Or perhaps, it was just some sort of twisted satisfaction seeing the flabbergasted expressions on their faces. The expressions that they'd take to their grave.
Taking a step to the right, I brought my arrow up and caught a blurring strike of the aglow mace as it struck down, the movement so fast I only saw the big, ugly man holding it after our weapons had already collided.
My feet dug into the muddy ground and Gunnar immediately jumped back. My senses flared outwards and I dove to the side, avoiding a barrage of arrows from Birta that followed each other in such quick succession that the arrows seemed more like a single spear than tens of arrows flying at blinding speed.
"How dare you sully our land with your pathetic and dirty presence!" His voice came out in a low growl.
If the colosseum—Black Pit of Death—was so important that trespassing guarantees death, then why were there only two people stationed here. It wouldn't make sense, unless…
Bringing my arm up, I caught the mace hurtling down at me like a meteor from the sky. The surface of the mace was scalding hot, and my skin immediately blistered even underneath the layer of Arcanum.
How interesting.
Removing my hand from the weapon and letting it crash into the ground, I turned around and once again stabbed at his neck. However, this one was a feint. As soon as he brought his hand up to get a hold of my hand, I slightly nudged the arrow into his grip and then held him by his long beard.
Pulling it towards myself, I kicked him in the face. The impact of the kick sent a shockwave in every direction and I saw a torch getting snuffed out in the near distance.
I need to end this quickly. However, his weapon was too intriguing to not understand even more.
Pulling him by his beard once again, I punched him right into his jaw. The sickening crack was followed instantly by a flick of his wrist as a dozen more needle-thin spikes rained down from above me.
I kicked towards his gut but he blocked with his mace and then pushed me back.
At the same time Birta launched another barrage of arrows at me.
I looked in her direction and immediately understood.
She was using a [Skill] of some sorts.
Skills were different from Arcane Arts.
Anyone could have or develop a Skill, unlike Arcane Arts which were both rare and difficult to control.
A Skill was a sequence. Like a code in a machine. It helped someone execute a sequence of events in a systematic manner with varying range and power. However, it was a tight mould. In terms of raw strength, if poured with enough Arcanum, it could rival an Arcane Art.
However, the one flaw it had was that unlike Arcane Arts, Skills were inflexible. If there is a sequence, the Skill has an obligation to complete the procedure before executing the action.
And from the looks of it, Birta can rapidly fire around 50 or so arrows before going on a 30 seconds cooldown.
And now that she has just fired it…
I lunged at Gunnar. His mace swung over his head and then hurtled down at me. Using my arm to absorb half of the impact and redirecting it towards the ground, I kicked his mace further into the muddy flooring.
Without wasting a second, I jumped at Birta like a wild predator. The tips of her own arrows swirled upwards and converged towards me, forming long claws over my fingers.
Slashing in one swift motion, I clawed at her face, carving four lines deep into it. Her left eyes ruptured and then spurted outwards, followed by the clean incision into her nose and lower lip. Stepping to the left, I let Gunnar's mace crush what was left of Birta's mutilated face as her entire body was smashed into the ground with a huge crunch, followed by an undulating tremor throughout the ground.
The claws over my fingers configured into a small blade as I pushed it into Gunnar's throat. The shock of seeing Birta's body squashed into a pulp had rendered him unable to move as he fell to his knees.
I grabbed a hold of his hair and crouched down. "Using your body weight to pivot your hefty mace is a good idea." Giving him a slight consolatory tap on his shoulder, I continued. "But it's useless against an opponent who's faster than you."
Taking the small dagger out of his pocket, I slit his throat open before pushing his body backwards. His broad frame fell like a tree, causing dirt to jump up.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled my hood up once again and started running towards the black pit of death. Although I was curious about his weapon, extending the fight or staying back to study his weapon was a big loss for me. The commotion would definitely attract more people. I need to get out of this place as a whole before that happens.
A small flash of orange light blipped behind me. I casted a look back and saw the mace shatter into a few fragments alongside Gunnar's corpse.
Peeling my eyes away from it, I increased my speed.
What a waste of a good weapon. If only I had enough time to spare, I could've discerned what the spike spell and the weapon was about.
But alas, fate is a very cruel thing.
Weaving around a sharp corner, I arrived in front of the Black Pit. I looked around but there was no door. The solid pathway that led to this place ended into a wall. A dead end. I looked back and saw a few people with huge torches in their hands, walking on the pathway and their synchronised steps causing an eerie echo.
They were already coming here.
Of course they were.
Those dwarves were using such high Arcanum amounts in their fight. They not only relayed the location, but also the fact that something was wrong. Since guards would only fight if someone tried to enter the Black Pit and refused to step back.
Using the dagger I had stolen from Gunnar; I threw it upwards. With as much force as I could. Creating an artificial magnetic field around my hand, I propelled myself upwards. However, there was one slight problem.
The mass of this dagger was barely 1 kilogram so it was easy to make it accelerate towards a certain velocity. However, I needed an initial propulsion of around 20 metres per second to even hope of getting somewhere close to the top of this structure.
But that wasn't the hard part. The hard part was the fact that there was a huge difference in our mass. I was around 86 times heavier than this dagger. I couldn't exert too much force using the magnetic field since it would break the dagger due to multiple resisting factors.
The only thing I could do here was to continuously repeat a rigorous set of motion.
Before I knew it, instead of propelling upwards the dagger was flying back to me. Catching it with the other hand, I threw it upwards once again and extended my right hand.
It was like pulling myself via a rope. The dagger was a moving rope. However, it could only hold for so long. The time taken by our combined momentum to equalise before the difference in mass started to catch up was around 0.7 seconds.
That means…
The dagger almost zipped past me, escaping my clutches. Catching it just barely, I threw it with all my force upwards once again.
The only way to overcome this small-time frame was more force. The more force is exerted, the more time it would take for the momentum to equalise and break my ascent.
I could just lodge it into the highest point but again, the material of this dagger is not 100% metal. Only the blade is. And the wall doesn't seem so thick. It will dislodge from it. And stabbing the wall again and again would alert people and give out my location.
Repeating the process a few more times, I increased the output of my strength. And when it felt like I couldn't do it anymore, I augment my arm with more Arcanum.
With one final throw, the dagger lodged itself into the topmost area of the structure. Using one final, powerful tug, I pulled myself upwards. Catching the handle of the lodged dagger, I barely held on for my dear life.
Throwing one leg over the oval top, I tried to gain footing. After a few fleeting seconds of pure, strenuous struggle, I finally stood atop the Black Pit.
The top from afar looked like a close dome, however, there were empty spaces between the dome like structure that allowed me to look down. Placing my foot over the edge, just before the first gap, I peeked downwards.
My heart almost jumped out my chest in fright, as I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, pressed my palms against my eyes and then opened them once again.
Inside the spacious colosseum structure was a giant swirling whirlpool of Wujins, encircling around each other hungrily. The low rumble of their snarls made my entire body shudder and the magnetic field around my arm that strapped that blade to my hand loosened, making it fall down and produce a dull clatter.
It wasn't a colosseum. It was made out to look like one. Instead, it was just a giant wall with ¾ of the dome structure made to fool perception.
A 2D colosseum that was actually a 3D wall. And on the other side were hundreds of thousands of Wujins. I took an instinctive step back, my eyes blinking so rapidly that they could barely register any detail in the murky dark ambiance.
My eyes flicked to the other side. There were some men, around 50 metres above the whirlpool of Wujins where they were encircling around something. Or someone. The men were pushing people in robes downwards. As they pushed each robed person down, the echo of their desperate cry transitioned into a mess of wild snarls, muscle tearing and bone breaking.
And one after another, the same process happened without change, until all that was left was a harrowing silence and a sense of emptiness.
It all made sense now.
They are planning to use the Wujins as the first weapon against humanity. Just like how we were gathering intel, they were going to use these creatures as a measuring net to probe for our strengths and weaknesses and then retaliate with proper precautions while knowing everything about us.
I took another step back. Looking down, I saw a squadron of people reach the place where I had killed Gunnar and Birta.
Grabbing the dagger tightly into my hand, I looked back.
I need to get Michael and return back to Earth.
Fighting all these Wujins…Korea will be flattened within a few hours…