Chapter 602: 604. Beneath the Southern Ruins

I can’t sense him, Gleam said, fluttering close to the crack in the ceiling. Doesn’t mean he’s not there.

“He’s there.” Dallion lay on the floor, the dartblade on his left leg surrounded in blue flames. “He’s just waiting.”

Several hours had passed since the encounter, although given the results describing it as a disaster would be more accurate. The shardfly felt stronger than anything Dallion had faced, save for the dragon. It had focused solely on him, ignoring Ruby and Gleam, as if they weren’t there. The only reason Dallion had survived at all is thanks to his sword’s indestructible nature. Without that, Dallion wouldn’t have had the opportunity to run away.

Feeling better, boss? Lux asked.

Dallion couldn’t say that he did when it came to long-term goals. He might have survived the initial encounter, but it wasn’t looking very likely he’d make it to the aetherbird mountain in six days. In fact, there was no guarantee he’d make out at all.

That’s why people generally don’t come here, dear boy, Nil sighed in a distinctly told-you-so tone. The creatures that like to hide here are usually strong enough to survive the environment, making them a lot more dangerous than most things you’d come across in the civilized wilderness.

“Shut up.” Dallion closed his eyes.

It was fortunate that the area had some city ruins. Dallion had found them purely by accident, mostly buried beneath the mountains. Whatever catastrophe had happened had covered up this section of the southlands, which was good since it prevented most of the large creatures from making their lairs there, or so it seemed. With no area guardians, Dallion had had to learn the language of the local plants to get an idea of what was going on. From what he could tell, the ruins were mostly filled with small rodents which avoided anything stronger. The creatures might have presented a challenge the last time he was here, but at his current level, they had quickly scurried away, choosing to ignore a direct confrontation.

Eventually the pain disappeared. Dallion felt he had enough strength to stand up. He had already mended all of his clothes and armor, but it was impossible to remove the bloodstains. Water and food, to a lesser degree, had been of a lesser priority. As a hunter, Dallion could survive about a week without either and had the means to find more in the wilderness. Here, he was the hunted.

Found some water. Ruby flew to Dallion. It’s not far.

“Any creatures up to it?”

Just rats.

You need to move, Vihrogon said. Shardflies get bored quickly, and when they do, they start slicing up buildings.

“Great.” Dallion sighed, then took his harpsisword. It was time to kill some rats.

The light coming from Lux was enough to scare the rats in most cases, but there would be instances in which the creatures would become cornered and left with no option but to try and fight their way out. Dealing with them was elementary. Dallion could have done so without even using combat splitting, but given his permanent injury, he preferred not to take any chances.

The wound proved another concern. The encounter with the spectral shardly had loosened his bandages, causing the bleeding to increase. Dallion had tried to tighten it as well as use Lux to heal what he could, but that didn’t stop the constant dripping. The concern with that wasn’t so much that he might start feeling drowsy in a matter of days, but that the blood would attract other, more intelligent creatures to have a go at him. Until he reached the water source, though, there was nothing he could do. Ruby tried to help out. The shardfly flew ahead like a scour, slicing some of the critters up. But he was still young and prone to making mistakes. On one occasion he had almost collapsed a corridor, forcing Dallion to rush and enter its realm to prevent the ceiling from falling. From then on, he had forbidden the shardfly from fighting until they reached a larger area.

What seemed like an hour later, after hundreds of killed rats and the occasional other creature, Dallion finally arrived at his goal.

From what he could tell, a stream had formed at some point, trickling along the inside of the ruins, filling up rooms as they did. The chamber Dallion reached was probably a conference hall ar some point. Now it was a deep pool of murky water.

Bursting into instances, Dallion went to the edge of the pool and scooped a bowl of water.

Nothing attacked him, which was a positive development.

I wouldn’t drink this, the dryad guardian of the bowl said.

Taking her advice, Dallion placed the bowl on the floor, then put the dartbow on top of it. The blue flame surrounded the top of the bowl, effectively destroying all the muck in the water, making it drinkable.

The taste remained pretty bad, but at this point, Dallion had no intention of complaining.

After a few bowls, he removed the bandages of his arm. The scar was still there, completely unhealed, as if he had been wounded moments ago. Using a new bowl of water, Dallion cleaned his arm. Once that was done, he rinsed and cleaned the bandages, using Lux to both clean and sterilize them. No doubt about it, having a healing flame was a huge advantage, almost making it unfair for Dallion’s enemies. On the other hand, the spectral shardfly had a lot more overpowered abilities. Even now, Dallion couldn’t be sure that the creature hadn’t cast an illusion on itself to look like a rat, insect, or miniature shardfly and was watching him from somewhere in the ruins. With its level, there was no way Gleam could sense it until it was too late. The only solution was to keep several dozen instances at all times.

Nil, if you have some tricks, I need them now, Dallion thought.

I don’t have any advice to give, the echo replied. Other than praying to the Green Moon. The sky isn’t an option, and I don’t think you’ll manage going by land. That doesn’t leave a lot of options.

I don’t need advice. I need magic.

We’ve talked about this, dear boy.

You’ve done it twice before. Why can’t you use it now?

I’m just an echo. Some rules I can bend, but this isn’t one of them. Sorry.

That wasn’t the answer Dallion wanted to hear. For a while he considered checking if the pool would lead to somewhere, but quickly decided against it. Fighting in normal conditions was bad enough. Maybe if he didn’t have a constantly bleeding scar, he could have tried to have a go, though not in this muck.

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Putting his skills to use, Dallion jotted down a map of the area in his head. From what he knew of architecture, there had to be another way to exit the mountain. Making a door would be no issue: he had already seen that a point attack could easily drill a hole through earth and rock. The problem was how to proceed afterwards. From what he could remember, the next mountain was a fair distance away, and even if the shardfly didn’t attack, other creatures were.

There must be an option, Dallion told himself.

He was so close that he could almost feel it. He had seen the tip of the mountain. It should have taken him less than a day to get there. If only he had been faster… if only Dark had responded to the call. Or maybe that was the reason the dragon hadn’t? The Green Moon would have been aware of the shardfly’s presence.

“Gleam, think you can talk to him?” Dallion asked.

Probably. Won’t do any good. I know the type. I was like that myself. If he’s old like me, he’ll enjoy fighting anything that’s strong and loathe hunters. You’re both.

“I’m not strong…”

You’re not as strong as a dragon, but enough to keep him amused. If I was at my old strength, maybe I could have held him off, but I’m far from it.

“I’m not strong enough,” Dallion added. “Any chance he’ll give up?”

After finding the most interesting prey in decades?

Unfortunately, that was a good point. Dallion purified some more water to wash himself a bit, then went into one of the collapsed corridors. Such a position was good for defense. He ate a third of what food he had in his backpack, then took off most of his gear.

“Ruby, you hide somewhere in the corridor we came from. Gleam, you’re in the main chamber. If anything budges, engage it and wake me up. Lux, you keep watch nearby.”

What are you thinking?

“Since there’s nothing else I can do, I’ll take a nap.” Dallion sat down. “With luck, maybe someone will give me some advice.”

Right… Gleam sounded doubtful. Good luck.

Ruby and the two familiars flew to the spots they were instructed. Meanwhile, Dallion closed his eyes. Sleep didn’t come easy. At first, Dallion kept going through the fight in his head. Then, he went further back, trying to think of all the conversations he’d had with the Star, the Moons, and then anyone else he could think of.

It felt like mentally walking through snow: exhausting, yet not taking him very far. Then, without any indication, Dallion found himself sitting at a picnic table on a meadow. Everything was calm. He could feel the cool night breeze as the flame of the lantern flickered a foot away. Everything was calm, pleasant… with the exception of the mosquitos.

How come I never learned their language? Dallion asked himself, as a few of them were sucking the blood from his left arm. Yet, he didn’t feel the slightest inclination to swat them.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” a voice said from across the table.

Dallion turned in the direction. For some reason, he was expecting to see a college friend dressed in green. Instead, Jiroh was sitting there. Her outfit was very different from anything Dallion had seen her in the past—it was Earth-made. The fury was dressed in a loose white pullover—despite it being warm—and a part of white denim jeans. While the clothes suited her, they also felt out of place.

“Dal?”

“Eh… I.” Dallion tried to remember why he was here. He knew he had to talk about something important, but for some reason couldn’t remember what.

“Is this your world?” Jiroh looked around. “It’s nice. Very different from what I expected it to be.”

“It’s part of it. Why are you here?”

The fury seemed surprised. Dallion could feel her confusion, as if it were his own.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” she said. “I thought it was about my sister?”

“He came to talk to me.” A scruffy-looking teen with green hair said, as he sat on the bench near Dallion. He was wearing a green tank top, torn green jeans, and a pair of rollerblades, handing down his left shoulder. “You’ll need to take care of that.” The teen pointed at Dallion’s arm. A whole colony of mosquitoes had covered it, as if gathered to a feast. “Better sooner.”

The boy’s presence startled Jiroh, who surrounded herself with three layers of air-currents. They were invisible, yet Dallion could feel them there.

“He wanted to know about the phoenix,” the teen said.

“Felygn?” Dallion asked. The moment he did, some clarity returned to him. The boy was a Moon, and if so, all this had to be a dream. It also explained Jiroh being here. That explained a lot, although it was the first time both Jiroh and a Moon had entered his dream at the same time. Or maybe there were other cases he couldn’t remember?

“You really messed up this time,” Felygn said, rolling one of his rollerblades along the table. “And just when I thought things were going your way. That’s the price of passing the fourth gate. A pity it doesn’t look like you’ll be passing the fifth.”

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