ALL NOVEL Chapter 29: To the Dungeon
"In exchange for our labor, we'll trade the khopesh for several items in your inventory."
“Julian…?” Juliet was taken aback.
"O... Oh?" And she wasn’t the only one, Bran seemed even more confused. His eyes flickered to the glowing [Epic] khopesh they had just made, still radiating with power on the table. His mind raced, realizing how rare and valuable a Mid-tier [Epic] weapon like this was—especially in Ethaca.
Epic weapons were graded into tiers—low, mid, and high—and this khopesh was clearly in the mid-tier, far superior to anything Bran had displayed over the shop.
"Deal! Take whatever you like from the shop," Bran quickly agreed, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity, thinking that Julian must be some fool to make such an offer.
Juliet, standing next to Julian, could no longer hold her shock.
"W-Why?" she stammered, her eyes wide as she looked at him. She couldn’t believe he was trading the khopesh so easily.
"It's fine, Juliet," Julian whispered as he leaned closer. "You can make more… And don't worry. [Juliet's Devotion] won’t be with them for long."
"What...?" Juliet blinked in confusion. "How can you be so sure?"
"I need you to trust me on this, please."
“That…” Juliet hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. And with a deep and hesitant breath, she handed the weapon over to Julian.
“Give me that!” Bran, still smirking, quickly snatched the khopesh from Julian’s hands. He admired the blade for a few seconds before scrambling to secure it somewhere in the forge.
"Can I pick anything I want, then?" Julian asked calmly, though Bran was too preoccupied locking the sword in his vault to notice.
And since Bran wasn’t minding him anymore, he walked over to where the weapons were laid out on racks. There were swords of all shapes and sizes, shields, axes, spears—and without even looking at them too much, Julian’s fingers brushed lightly over the hilts and blades as he moved down the row.
Julian did not bother checking the weapons and equipment with [Guidance] at all, he just felt the metal in his hands—letting them feel all that he needed to know.
But very soon, however, a frown slowly crawled on his face.
“There’s… nothing of worth here," he muttered under his breath but not silent enough as the other smiths nearby could hear him. They glanced at each other. They were annoyed, sure, but they couldn’t say anything at all—not after what they’d seen earlier.
"Just a waste of metal,” Julian let out a deep sigh as he shook his head, “I can almost feel them crying, begging to be melted down and reforged."
The blacksmiths clenched their jaws, but they couldn’t argue. Julian wasn’t wrong, and they all knew it. The quality of their work didn’t come close to what he and Juliet had produced.
“I… suppose this will do.” Finally, after a long moment, Julian picked up a short sword…and a shield. He looked at them thoughtfully, then turned to Cyrus. "Is this good enough for the dungeon?"
“Y—”
"Huh..." Julian blinked a few times. He wasn’t used to reading chat responses yet, but MEGAN’s enthusiasm was impossible to ignore. This was only MEGAN, Julian couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he learned to read and actually started responding to them.
"Okay. And then..." He then turned back to the pile of steel ingots in the corner of the shop and gestured to them. "Can we take some of the ingots and this black thing as well since I only picked up a sword and a shield?"
Bran, still busy securing the khopesh, barely paid attention to what Julian was saying. "Take as many as you want! Just leave the shop already!"
Julian glanced at Juliet, who was still a little reluctant. But with a nod, she started loading the cart with the steel ingots they would need. Juliet was looking at Bran from time to time as she piled up the cart filled with steel, but he had no response at all.
And so… Juliet took that as a sign to take more. A lot more.
After what seemed like half an hour, the group left the shop with Juliet rolling a cart filled with a mountain of ingots—the wheels could barely even hold the weight anymore as they started to creak across the stone street.
"Uhm… I know this is a lot of ingots, but did we really need to give up the khopesh?" Juliet finally broke the silence, her voice slightly heavy. "And you said it wouldn’t be with them for long? What… do you mean by that?”
“Well…” Julian let out a quiet sigh as he readied himself to say the lie he had practiced in his mind over and over again, “...I thought about it—but someone’s been stealing my work, and then they stole the ordinary sword we made as well. So... it’s likely whoever’s been stealing my stuff will take the khopesh too."
“That…” Juliet narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
As for Julian, he did his best to keep a straight face even though he was feeling the tension.
"That... makes sense!" Juliet gasped, “Someone’s been stealing your work this entire time, pretty boy!?”
“Yes,” Julian’s quiet sigh turned into relief as Juliet seemed to believe him.
"I still feel bad about losing the khopesh," Juliet sniffled, her fingers tightening around the cart's handle as she trudged forward, “But you’re right—we made it twice, we can make it again. But for that to happen…”
Juliet’s voice lowered as she seemed to have suddenly been wrapped in her own thoughts. And once again, the only sounds being made were the struggling wheels and Cyrus’s incessant whispering.
And soon enough, they arrived back at Juliet’s humble outdoor smithy. But as soon as they settled the cart…
…Juliet suddenly dropped to her knees in front of Julian.
“Julian!”
"What... what are you doing!?" Julian immediately tried to pull her up, but he couldn’t even budge her for even a single millimeter.
"I’ve thought about this and I want you to hear me out…" Juliet groveled, her head almost touching the ground, "...Make me your apprentice!"
“Huh…?” Julian stood frozen for a moment, blinking as he tried to comprehend what was happening. "But—"
“Please!” Juliet’s voice shook with desperation, cutting Julian off.
“Juliet, please get–” And before Julian could respond, floating words appeared before him.
[Guidance]
The Lv. ?? Blacksmith, Juliet, wants to be your apprentice. It is up to you to decide whether to accept her or not. Accepting her will lead to the continuation of the quest: [Juliet’s Dilemma.]
“A… continuation of the quest?” Julian blinked at the words as he whispered to himself.
“Wait…” Juliet immediately looked up, her wide eyes locking onto his as she heard his whisper. "You mean... this entire time, you didn’t know you were on a quest…?"
“You… knew I had a quest?” he asked, his confusion growing as even he himself didn't even realize that he had one.
Juliet nodded slowly. "I received a quest, too. It said to confront Bran, and it would lead to... good things. But wait… I thought… I assumed you also received a quest—and that’s why you were helping me.”
“No. I… I don’t like checking Guidance too much,” he admitted, keeping his tone casual.
“What other reason would I have for helping you, Juliet, other than to help you?” Of course, there was also the fact that everything that was happening was his fault, but he wasn’t going to say that.
“T… that…” Juliet’s lips trembled slightly at his words, and without any hesitation, she once again pressed her forehead against the ground, even harder this time. "Please, accept me as your apprentice!"
“I don’t think I’m at the point where I could accept an apprentice,” Julian let out a long sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck, “We could be—!?”
“Please!” Juliet's forehead hit the ground with a loud thud again. The sound was so loud that it almost drowned out the noise from the other smithy. "I will do anything, Master Julian!"
“No, I…” Julian was about to refuse her once again, but feeling the genuine passion and determination in her voice just made him pause for a second.
“Please!”
“I…” And after a few more seconds of thinking about it, Julian sighed and crouched down, gently placing a hand on Juliet’s shoulder. “I don’t really know about being a master, but… I know I’ll learn a lot from you too, Juliet. So… okay.”
“Okay…?” Juliet’s very slowly lifted her head up as a bright smile crawled on her face.
"Okay, but please don’t call me master. We’re… smithing buddies."
“Really!?” she gasped, her forehead still very much swollen from hitting it on the ground several times. "Thank you, pretty boy!"
"!?!" Julian’s breath caught in his throat as Juliet suddenly threw her arms around him in a tight hug, her strength overwhelming. And right there and then, he realized just how much physically stronger Juliet was compared to him.
"O…okay," Julian wheezed, tapping her arm several times to signal her to let go. "That’s… that’s enough."
"S…sorry, got a little excited," Juliet chuckled, finally releasing him from her iron grip.
“...Right,” Julian coughed.
“Well then…” Juliet then placed her hands on her waist and glanced around at her messy smithy. "I… need to clean all of this up. You had somewhere you needed to be, right?"
“Uh…” Julian glanced over at Cyrus, who nodded eagerly.
"Yes," Julian said, "Are you going to be alright by yourself? Someone might… steal all of these. This is a lot."
"Heh. I dare them to try!" Juliet suddenly reached behind her forge, pulling out a large axe with ease.
"I’ll be sleeping here from now on," she declared, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the area, daring anyone to approach. "I also want to see the look on that guy's face when the khopesh gets stolen, ha!"
"Right…" Julian instinctively backed away from the axe, his hands raised slightly in surrender. "We’re going now. Be careful, Juliet."
"You be careful. You’re going to a dungeon, right?" Juliet’s eyes flicked toward the cart of ingots, her expression protective, almost like a hawk watching over its nest.
“Hm. Thank you.”
Juliet did not really respond anymore and remained fixated on her pile of ingots, her axe held tightly in her hand, ready to defend her precious metals. Julian gave her one last glance, letting out a hum before they started walking back toward the inn.
"Well, folks, that was an intense moment, right…?” And while all of that was happening, Cyrus was still deep into the chat, “Our very own Sword Junkie just took on his first apprentice! I don't know about you, but I’m already looking forward to seeing what kind of weapons these two will forge in the future. But for now… it’s time for the dungeon!"
“Cyrus…” Julian turned to Cyrus. "Just… how do quests work, exactly? I didn’t even know I had a quest relating to Juliet."
“That’s… a little bit complicated and simple at the same time,” Cyrus cleared his throat as he strayed away from the chat, “Some quests would automatically be accepted, and if the [Guidance of Artemis] didn’t think it was major or important enough, it won’t even bother showing it to you—after all, if it alerted you every time someone requested something, you’ll just end up blind, reading a wall of texts every time you talk to someone.”
“...And if it asks you to confirm a quest?” Julian asked.
“Then that means the quest is really, really—wait…” Cyrus’s eyes quickly narrowed, “...Don’t tell me you have a major quest?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Ho…” Cyrus narrowed his eyes even further. But he didn’t really press on and just shook his head.
“What… what about Levels?” Julian quickly tried to change the subject, "Is there… some sort of reference for how strong one actually is?"
"That’s even more complicated," Cyrus raised his finger. "Sure, levels are a clear indicator of your strength, but this isn’t like your typical video game. This is real life. Stats grow over time depending on how you train, how often you fight, and even your natural abilities."
“Hm.” Julian nodded, listening closely.
"Take you, for example," Cyrus continued. "You managed to defeat those goblins and even those racist grunts from the Order of Artemis, right? That’s because you were already strong, Julian. I mean, bro. Look at your arms. Look at it."
Julian glanced down at his arms, and then at Cyrus’s arms which were thinner than even his wrist. "Hm…"
"To give you a reference, the average player starts with a strength value of about… 3," Cyrus explained, raising a finger as he spoke. "I started at 3 myself. The average adult hyum should also be around that. What about you? What did you start at?"
Julian furrowed his brow, trying to remember. "I… think I started at 9."
"What—?!" Cyrus nearly choked on his own breath. "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.”