Chapter 699 - Where is the loot?

Victoria’s duplicate suddenly stops, coughs up a green liquid, then collapses to her knees, literally falling apart a second later. The head rolls across the floor, the arms tear off the torso, and the legs fall apart as the body crumbles.

Real Victoria shudders slightly. “Some sort of aerosol. It hit my face, but I do not know what activated it. It mutated extremely quickly, first breaking down my organs before going after muscles and ligaments.”

“Morwag would survive it,” one of the demons behind mutters, several others nodding eagerly as they slide into the conversation, trying to guess whether they would be able to endure.

I am fairly confident they would not. Vic has one of the most durable bodies here.

“I noticed it activating. Just give me a minute, and I will work around it,” Christoph says simply, still staring in the direction where it happened.

“Do you want me to send in another duplicate?”

“Thank you, Victoria, but there is no need to.”

Hearing that, Vic stops by my side. She glances at the temporary mana halo I have formed to help me accumulate energy more easily and asks, “Are you preparing?”

“Obviously. It never hurts to have a bit more mana, Vic. Actually, I think you should invest in the mana stat a bit more. It is not healthy how low your mana levels are. How the hell are you even capable of creating that many duplicates?”

“I had a few members of my party run calculations for me. Based on what we know, we estimated the minimum amount of mana I need for my skill so I can invest the rest stat points to make my body as strong and durable as possible.”

“Vic, it sounds like your party is a bunch of nerds.”

“It worked out to be the most efficient solution for me, Natty,” she smiles just a little. “How have you been doing? I thought I would meet you on the 4th floor earlier, given your capabilities.”

“A lot has happened. And you know me, I always thought it was cooler for the main hero to hold back his strength, then suddenly leap ahead of everyone.”

“That indeed sounds like you. Sometimes. You and Primordial Knights?”

“I was kidnapped and forced to join, it worked out in the end, and I do not mind it. Please do not kill anyone.”

“I will not.”

“Thanks. What guild do you want to join?”

“I am considering Frontier or Bloodline, but I am waiting for a better offer.”

“Aren’t they strict about their members with Bloodline, especially, only taking people with powerful traits?”

“Natty, are you saying your sister has weak traits?”

“Vic, I would rather lose ten mana stats than ever say that.”

“Good. When we have more privacy, I will tell you other things, including my traits. For now, I guess we should go.” She gestures at Christoph, who creates an orb over the palm of his hand.

Breathing into it, the orb turns into tiny particles that fly ahead, clinging to the edges of the hallways. When these particles hit certain spots, they move erratically and begin to duplicate, they appear to deal with traps before settling down.

I don’t know if it’s the best trigger she could have chosen, but after that, Victoria twists, rips off one of her fingers, and throws it to the ground. From it, her duplicate reforms.

Would she still be able to do that if her constitution were higher than her strength? Probably yes, knowing her. I also know she does not care much, but why won't she come up with something cooler? Couldn't she grow a duplicate from a drop of blood, or maybe a single hair? She likely tested it, so is the finger more efficient, since it contains blood, bone, flesh, and skin?

I'm sure there is a lot of fun to be had testing her skill, as well as her mental power. She has told me that she is the one controlling the duplicates. I haven't asked yet whether that is because of her decision or some sort of limitation, nor have I asked how difficult it is.

But, as much as I love her and as much as she is my sister, I realize how monstrous this is from a certain point of view. Her mind controlling multiple bodies, possibly while seeing each one as an original. The strain it puts on you, and the kind of thinking it requires, is almost like turning into a machine. After testing that kind of stuff myself, I realize that even more.

Simply said, Vic is cool as heck.

Her duplicate starts walking away from us toward the spot where the last one fell apart. Halfway there, it suddenly explodes.

"You have walked exactly the same route as you did before," Christoph says, scratching his chin and thinking.

"I did," Victoria confirms.

"Adaptive defenses? Something that reactivates a dormant trap further back in case someone decides to use a way similar to ours to progress?" he starts thinking out loud.

"Possibly, or one that activates and deactivates at certain times."

"It also wasn't mana-based, so likely a mechanical trigger that activated a shielded inscription powered by a hidden mana battery."

"Or you are both wrong," I say, and Vic and Christoph turn to me. It almost makes me want to smile seeing their. "What if the traps are set not to stop people from going in, but to stop something from inside going out?"

I ignore the clear excitement of the demons around us at those words. "The first trap that melted Vic would activate the dormant one further ahead, and from our point of view, that would be further back."

Weslin is one of the first to pick up on it, he shouts at the Primordial Knights, "No one fucking move!"

"Oh my," Christoph smiles, his senses expanding across the area in a way similar to mine, though less forceful and using less mana.

If I’m right, Vic’s duplicate may have triggered a trap, and that could have awakened another dormant trap somewhere else. Maybe even right where we're standing, ready to go off with a big, satisfying boom.

It smells like the work of someone who wanted to be mana-efficient. Someone who set up traps designed to last for years, often putting them into "sleep mode" to avoid draining batteries.

It is also quite unfortunate, since we are already quite a bit into the hallway I chose, not even able to see the area where we appeared at the start of the event. We are also the only ones who selected this path.

A few seconds pass with everyone standing still, in deep silence, as if a single word could trigger one of these insane traps. The entire time, I feel my fingers tingle and my senses sharpen.

These traps are, simply said, insane. They were made by someone very talented and straight up twisted. It is to the point where Christoph said he is sure some of them could hurt even someone approaching the rank of Champion if they were careless.

I dismantled one of them further back, and its pieces are currently in my bag for later examination. I'm so pleased with it that even if I gained nothing else from this place, I would still consider these scraps of a destroyed trap as a win.

"It seems that we are lucky this time. There might not be as many dormant traps activating each time. Or the one that activated is further back. That also means you have to reconsider twice if you want to return the same way," Christoph says simply before turning to Vic. "Victoria, if you will," he gestures, and we continue.

***

The Ancient Armory is a cool name, everyone should agree with me on that. The. Ancient. Armory. It has a great ring to it, stirring up dozens of expectations for loot, and plenty of it. Weapons, armor, and things left here long ago waiting for the brave heroes to claim.

So why the fuck does this feel more like the Ancient Trapmory? It is just trap after trap after trap. Did the Elemental Clowns come this way as well, slowly avoiding the traps, sacrificing people, or forcing monsters inside to trigger them?

Where are the guardian monsters? Where are the statues depicting abominations that would start moving when someone steps on the wrong cobblestone, revealing it was just a thin layer of stone hiding the real monster inside?

Or the classic, mimic chests. I want to see some demon, maybe Malika, run to open one, only to be eaten as the chest turns into a huge mouth full of teeth.

Where is the romance of it? Where is the adventure? And where is the loot?

At this point, I feel like if Christoph wanted, he could clear this whole place on his own, and faster. But the man does not seem to be in a hurry. He always takes time explaining how certain traps likely work and what he does to counter them. Right now, it feels like he either enjoys being the center of attention, with everyone listening to him, or he simply likes to show off.

And there is a lot to show off. His senses are amazing, likely some of the best I have ever seen. While I can match him when it comes to mana by using my Mana Wavelength Iris, supported by my passives and physique, he seems to possess a different kind of senses, one that does not target mana.

So, even as my opinion of this place keeps dropping lower, at least I can listen to Christoph and his mana sciency talk that he so obviously enjoys. When I ask a few questions, he even recommends books and places in Megacity where I could find them. The prices of the most valuable books often climb to half a million shards each.

At that moment, he looks like a bookworm recommending his favorite book to a friend he hasn't seen in years, then a few days later spamming that friend with messages asking if they have read it yet.

Still, a whole day has passed in these halls without casualties, though I doubt the other groups are as lucky.

After that, one day, we finally exit the hallway, entering a chamber with a single pillar in the middle, not unlike the one where we appeared at the start of the event. But unlike that chamber, this one has no branching hallways. There is only the one we came from and a wide metal door on the other side.

The doors loom over us, towering to twice my height and twice that in width. The surface is darkened metal streaked with green corrosion in the cracks. Despite that, it feels like the kind of metal that will outlast bone, stone, and maybe even time itself.

Up close, I see faint carvings across the surface, dulled almost to nothing. Whatever they once showed has been lost to decay.

We study them for only a few minutes, not moving much further, very aware of possible traps hidden here in the chamber.

I start wondering what attack I should use to break through when mana rises around Christoph. For a moment, his face looks bored, almost cold. A half-formed figure grows around him, swelling in size until it matches the door.

Once again, I realize the others cannot see it, with the possible exception of two or three perceptive people. At most, they can only feel the mana surging around him. Unlike them, I watch that half-figure straighten. The head is the most unnerving part, only a suggestion of a face with features reduced to faint ridges where eyes and a nose should be, and a hollow dip where a mouth might have been.

The arms move with weight behind them, and the fingers drive forward. The first strike lands with a thunderous crack, the sound of steel giving way under impossible force. The door groans like a submarine under pressure, low and deep.

Again, the figure strikes. Each impact is a brutal hammering noise followed by a grinding shriek as the fingers dig deeper. The door shivers with every blow, sending echoes down the hallway like distant drums.

Then the figure forces its fingers into the punctures. The chamber fills with a roar as the steel bends. The tearing grows louder into a metallic scream.

For a moment, I deactivate my eyes, simply watching Christoph stand there with no figure visible while the door in front of him tears and bends as if something invisible is ripping it apart.

Once it is done, I reactivate my eyes just in time to see the figure shrink, move over Christoph, float behind him, and rest on his shoulders.

Without a word, he takes a step inside the breach, not even asking Vic to send her a duplicate, and we follow slowly. As I pass through the torn metal, I think I sense something, so out of curiosity, I touch the door. Any mana that meets the metal starts to unwind, as if the material actively unravels mana. It takes extra effort, but I force my mana to stabilize.

I find a small fragment of the metal on the ground and pocket it for later examination while the room lights up from a single source at the top, a yellow disk embedded in the stone ceiling.

There are two exits from the chamber this time, but something else draws my attention.

Dozens of sealed metal boxes are stacked against the walls, each made of the same sickly dark green metal, their edges eaten with rust that only makes them look meaner. They are all the same size and shape.

Even untouched, they radiate a pressure that makes me think twice about standing too close. The seams are too precise, too tight, as if welded shut, not to protect what is inside but to protect everything outside from it. The surfaces are covered with patina, yet the material feels thicker than any weapon crate should ever need to be.

If someone told me these were meant to hold dangerous, radioactive materials, I would believe them.

If someone claimed whatever is inside is meant to detonate, I would believe that even more.

***

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