I wasn't fully rested, but after coming this far, there was no way I was abandoning my run. I didn't even know where the new portal had opened up. I'd kill the hydra, claim my title, then teleport back to Dawnhold and see if anyone came to find me.
I'd brought buff potions with me this time. I hadn't used any when I'd beat it under Cluma's supervision, but this time I wasn't risking anything, so I drank down stat and defensive potions and rushed into the hydra's chamber, utilising three crystals to target the fire, ice and sonic heads. As expected, my attack provoked the poison head into firing its breath attack, and hence exploding when I struck with crystal number four.
A [Far Reach] powered stab, strengthened with [Armour Break], [Mighty Swing], [Strength] and [Superimpose] rammed my sword-staff into its main body, a large lightning bolt paralysed it, and then a [Far Step] and more lightning finished it. The fight was over in a couple of minutes.
The way bosses didn't learn between encounters meant that once I'd found a strategy that worked, beating them repeatedly became trivial. This hydra would always try to attack me with a poison breath attack, never learning that doing so would lead to its doom.
ding
Skill [Superimpose] advanced to level 15
Title [Novice Delver] evolved to [Proficient Delver]
Class level increased all stats by 10
Unfortunately, the way the 'fight' was utterly one sided meant that my rewards were lacking, but I'd earned the title I wanted.
[Proficient Delver] - You have cleared an intermediate dungeon on your own, taking your next steps on the path of dungeoneering. Level requirements for class advancement reduced by ten. (Rank 3)
And with the doubled level reduction, I could once more change class. I even got my bonus attribute points for a class completion despite not gaining a class level.
Class changed to [Artisan]
As interested as I was to look at my new list of available skills, that would have to wait. I'd seen no activity at any of my teleport beacons, but if Tilyana was tracking me, she'd be picking me up down here. Even a dragon couldn't cross this dungeon quickly. I grabbed the loot from the chest—another useless amulet of ice protection—and activated [Redistribute].
I appeared in my bedroom in complete darkness. Despite being over my target for the final five floors, I'd completed the first ten quickly enough that the full clear took me less than seven days, but I'd returned in the middle of the night. As expected, I hadn't been able to keep up any sort of sleep schedule, and being awoken by extraterrestrial visitors hadn't helped. Cluma was asleep in her room, not yet expecting me back and having no reason to stay awake.
I needed more sleep myself, but it would have to wait. I needed to keep one eye on my other beacons, and the other on the skies for approaching dragons. Now would be a good time to go over my new skills.
"Peter! There's one of those stupidly named dragons here calling for you, and apparently it's important enough to barge into my room. Get out of whatever dungeon you're in and come to Synklisi!"
Ah, Krana had been there when not-Blobby had called me before, so he knew she could do that. Fair enough. Perhaps I should have contacted the slime myself.
"I'll be outside the guild hall in half a minute," I replied telepathically.
It was in fact forty seconds, the teleport room being just off the main reception. The place was empty, with it being the middle of the night and well outside the teleport room's official opening hours, but once again, the non-existence of door locks in this place meant that the time didn't matter.
"Good," said Krana, who was already waiting in the street, despite my speediness. "We have a situation," he added, and from the way he'd grabbed me and taken off without even putting me down on his back first, I guessed it was an urgent one. I hadn't had any more notifications, though, so what was happening this time?
"Humans from Earth have passed through the latest portal," he said. "A group of thirty."
Two more than my foreign soul notifications, but they'd all had Earth coordinates. They must have been infected before crossing over. So, two people from our last contact, and twenty-eight new? Why send them through the portal? Weren't they worried about disease? Or was that outweighed by their desire to keep System infections to a minimum?
They must be fairly close to Synklisi, given that Krana didn't travel via the portal network. "How far?"
"Only a few minutes."
I was glad of that, because I was still dangling limply in his claws, and all the swinging around was even worse than being on his back.
"So they walked through and closed down the portal?"
"Indeed. Yet they seem to still have no control over the portal location, given that it appeared ten metres above the surface. They came through in some sort of gliding device that slowed their fall. All have stats far below where they should be for their age, and could not survive the drop unaided."
The worst part of that wasn't that they had low stats, it was that they all had stats.
"They must be relying on us to send them back, then. That is... brave."
"Perhaps they have brought something to open a portal, but if required, I will fetch Darren after you have spoken to them."
Sure enough, we arrived a few minutes later, descending into a wide area of meadow, in the middle of which was a group of people in green, pressurised hazmat suits, milling around while Serlv stared at them. One of them seemed to be talking at her, very slowly and loudly, because some people seemed to believe that any language barrier could be overcome by sufficient application of volume. Serlv was completely ignoring the noise.
Krana hovered briefly next to her, putting me down carefully before crashing down himself.
I looked around and spotted the nameless minister of foreign affairs, his transparent hood thankfully easy to see through, but I didn't recognise any others. Whichever was the second infected individual, I couldn't tell at first glance.
Actually, calling him the nameless minister was wrong. [Eye of Judgement] showed that he had somehow convinced the System of his name.
Name: Gregory Charles
Species: Human (β)
Age: <Error>
Class: Commoner (Level 2)
Soul Points: 1
Health: 15/15
Stamina: 15/15
Mana: 0/0
Strength: 9
Dexterity: 10
Endurance: 10
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 11
Charisma: 14
Skills: [Language: Common 2] [Language: English 10]
Traits: [Negotiator]
Titles: None
Attuned Affinities: [Fire] [Ice]
Interesting. Impossible affinities again, but the common human ones instead of my rare selection. It didn't know his age. Only a single trait, which wasn't [Abnormal Soul], but instead his species was different. Unlike me, he had a subspecies. There were no unlocked skills or classes, but he'd gained a level at some point since his infection. Also, he had no mana. Not just zero mana, but a zero mana cap. Was that due to the manaless environment of Earth?
... No, he lacked the organ behind his heart that stored mana, nor did he have a mana circulatory system. He could never wield mana, nor could any human in this group. Earth didn't need to worry about fireballs. Not that combat artes were any better.
"(Gregory,)" I greeted. "(Why are... why... uh...)"
Right, dragon flight. I spun away and added a patch of colour to the uniform green of the grass.
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"(Sorry. I'm not a good flyer. Less so when we're in a hurry. What's going on? Why have you crossed over here?)"
He gave me a grumpy look that rather suggested crossing over wasn't his own choice. "(We couldn't hide what happened after the last portal. But I'll let her fill you in,)" he said glancing over at the woman who had been talking at Serlv, but was now making her way over to me at high speed, or at least as high as was feasible in her bulky, protective outfit. Everyone else seemed to be drawn into her wake, like she was some sort of magnet. "(She's supposed to do the talking, lest everyone all start clamouring at once.)"
Another frown suggested that her appointment wasn't unanimous, and the fully named Gregory wasn't a fan.
"(Finally, someone who can speak,)" she said in an accent I couldn't quite place, but with words that had me fully empathising with Gregory. "(I'm the spokesperson for our diplomatic squad. Please direct any questions to me.)"
I peered at the woman, somewhat camouflaged against the grass in her inflated green plastic suit, with only her head visible inside its transparent bubble.
"(Fine. First question; how do you pee in that?)"
The woman frowned. "(And please keep conversation on topic. We're on a tight time limit here.)"
"(I'd have thought that was an important question, at least for you,)" I said, grinning. I could tell already that I wasn't going to like this woman, whoever she was.
Unnamed human, Commoner (1/1)
"(Then what should I call you?)"
Her mouth opened, before a look of confusion passed over her. Her mouth closed.
"(You didn't warn them about that?)" I asked Gregory, who shrugged.
"(Yes, I did,)" he answered, before biting off whatever he was going to say next. "(She's Mary Adaway.)" he finished, substituting whatever he was going to say for something that was presumably more polite.
The look of confusion on the face of the person allegedly called Mary intensified before slipping back into vexation.
"(Okay, then why are you here?)" I asked her. "(As you've just demonstrated, crossing between the worlds is dangerous in ways beyond the pathogens you seem so worried about.)"
I couldn't resist a glance with [Soul Perception], and what I saw almost made me shudder. They weren't chained, not even loosely like the twins when I'd first seen them. Rather, the chains were growing on them. Black worms, sprouting on their souls, wriggling and twisting together, looking far too much like the parasitic corruption I'd seen in the Emerald Caverns. I was obviously looking at the initial stage of an infection. The Law must have grabbed them the moment they crossed over.
"(I would contest that you seem far too blasé about potential pathogens. You left behind exposed flesh in our world, twice, and on both occasions, single celled life forms were isolated that DNA sequencing couldn't identify as belonging to any known Earth family. Presumably, the reverse is also true. This isolation is as much for your protection as ours. Since you lack the relevant technology, we're willing to take up the burden of preventing cross-contamination.)"
'For an appropriate fee,' added my own mind, filling in the words that she'd very deliberately left unsaid.
"(We're here to conduct trade negotiations,)" she continued. "(Given the issues with sustaining long-term portals, it was deemed less risky to send a team in person, rather than communicate through an open portal. Of the samples you offered us, we wish to trade for the spheres you referred to as monster cores. Perhaps it won't be as efficient as laying cables between our worlds, or running a generator such as the one Dr Withermark was attempting to produce, but we believe we can use them to generate some power.)"
I could understand them showing no interest in plain clothing and tools, but what of the mythril sample? She hadn't even mentioned it. Nor had they asked questions about the System. Yet they wanted more cores? What core had we given them last time? Level twenty? And they thought that was a significant enough energy source to risk the lives of thirty people like this? She must be underselling it; they must think they could pull a lot of power from them. And that was before we pointed out that they came in a range of levels, and the samples hadn't been particularly special.
"(How many do you need to produce a viable amount of power?)" I asked, probing.
"(How many would you be able to provide?)" she countered, not giving anything away. If she'd quoted a low number, I'd have known they were more valuable to her than she was letting on.
I glanced around at everyone else, all listening intently, but no-one saying anything. [Appraisal] revealed them all as unnamed human commoners, with a single exception. Another unhappy-looking man standing next to Gregory.
Harry Withermark, Human, Commoner (3/3)
So, from what their spokeswoman was saying, that was the guy responsible for building the portal? Why send so many though, if this woman was going to be the only one talking?
"(A hundred a year shouldn't be a problem, to start with,)" I said, picking a pathetically low figure. I didn't specify the level. If that was level fifty, it could be true. For level twenty cores, on the other hand, we could supply more than that per day.
I didn't miss the small tick upwards at the edges of her mouth, however quickly it flattened out. Gotcha.
"(Not as many as we were hoping for, but if you think you could raise it in later years, it'll be a valuable start.)"
Thank goodness I was the one doing the talking. With no-one else able to comprehend that this woman was being deliberately deceptive, they could end up thinking they really weren't particularly valuable to them.
"(So, you want a small number of monster cores, from which you can extract 'some power', and for that you've organised this? How were you hoping to get back home? And what sort of time limit are you working to? And what country do you represent?)"
"(You didn't supply estimates last time for how much of each material you could supply. Due to that oversight, we had little choice but to arrange another visit; perhaps you could have supplied them by the million, and the chance was too good to pass up. We need to return within three days, but would prefer to be quicker, and will be relying on your side to transport us back. Finally, I do not represent any country. This is an international negotiation team.)"
To be fair, there was some truth to her complaint that we'd missed vital information from our last contact. It wasn't our fault the previous discussions had been interrupted by the System eating tens of thousands of people, though. Calling the group a 'team' seemed a little stupid when she was apparently the only one permitted to talk, too. Also, three days? How were they planning to pee?
Well, there was one simple way to find out. I took a look at the group of Earthlings with [Mana Sight], the thick plastic doing nothing to block my magical vision.
"(What's so funny?)" demanded the nameless woman in response to my sudden burst of laughter. "(Please treat this seriously!)"
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