Chương 47: 20-2.Old World and the New

The first thing to emerge from behind firelight was Jessi's eyes—bright and sharp in darkness, inconveniently alert in any lighting. She crouched behind the fallen counter, arrow still nocked, mouth already pulling into the expression of someone who'd caught me betting the family estate. Beside her, Lucas heard the sound and launched himself from cover—overcorrected immediately, introducing his head to a cracked cabinet edge.

"Ow—damn it, is that actually you?" He pressed his skull, voice low but expression mixing horror with bewildered relief.

"I genuinely thought when the floor went, you and Alvira—Lady Alvira—were buried in Old Civilization garbage."

"Regrettably, we failed to oblige," I said. Only then noticing my voice had gone rough—like I'd gargled gravel. Matthews stepped from shadows on the far side, greatsword not yet sheathed. He looked at me, then Alvira, gaze resting on each of us exactly one beat before speaking.

"Alive is enough." The veteran's words always arrived like axe strikes—no ornamentation. Sometimes that directness landed harder than anything else. Erina was there too. She sat beside an overturned bench, two bandaged soldiers from other teams resting nearby. She'd been changing someone's dressing when she heard my voice. She looked up—and for the first time, something unmistakably like visible relief crossed her composed face.

"Come here," she said.

"Stand still. Let me assess." I was about to point out I hadn't reached the falling-apart-at-a-touch stage, but two steps forward, the chemical burn flared like someone had relit it from inside. I held my expression, limiting myself to thorough internal condemnation of that bioluminescent bastard. Alvira spoke before I could.

"See to him first." I glanced at her. Still pale. Still visibly unsteady. Delivering that line like she was merely observing someone else's problem. Erina clearly wasn't playing along.

"Both of you, stop talking," she said simply.

"One at a time." Jessi made a sound definitely suppressing laughter.

"Rare sight, seeing Lady Alvira get managed like that." She rested her chin on her hand, eyes moving between us with bright, calculating pleasure.

"And they both came up from below together. Young master, sounds like your underground excursion was quite productive." I leaned my sword against the wall, working very hard to look like I hadn't understood the multiple layers packed into that phrase.

"If you have energy for commentary, you're not badly hurt."

"True enough. Unlike someone who disappeared for extended periods and came back smelling of medicine and someone." Lucas choked audibly. Matthews turned to study the cracked wall with sudden interest. Erina didn't move a facial muscle—just pulled open my corroded outer layer and examined the treated burn.

"... Who did your emergency care?" Question directed at me, but eyes moving to Alvira. Before I could answer, Alvira responded with two words.

"The system." Technically accurate. Problem was it was too accurate—didn't sound like explanation, sounded like deliberate amputation of everything inconvenient. Jessi, whose instincts for detecting omissions were unreasonable, picked up scent immediately.

"The system?" She drew words out with interest.

"What system exactly? Young master, more I hear this, more it sounds like you two weren't just keeping warm and supporting each other through darkness—you actually encountered something interesting without us."

"Keep embellishing and I'll send you down that elevator to see for yourself."

"Oh—there's an elevator." Jessi's delight increased visibly.

"You even know what it's called. Sounds like well-organized date itinerary." Alvira's ears moved almost imperceptibly. Just barely—small enough only someone who'd spent recent hours close enough to notice would catch it. I cleared throat and redirected.

"There is functional Old Civilization infrastructure down there," I said.

"More than a little. After we fell, we found passage—backup lighting, medical station, guidance system that's still operational." Erina finished securing my bandage without comment, though eyes sharpened at medical station. Lucas leaned forward, visibly lighting up.

"Wait—actually functional? Not half-collapsed room, actually operational?" He kept voice down with effort.

"Equipment? Power? Records? Did you see terminals, signage, interfaces—""Yes," I cut him off.

"Extensive enough that one look would make you question whether every history lesson you've received was fabricated." That wasn't hyperbole. Just the less disturbing version. Matthews frowned.

"Monsters?"

"Yes, not just the kind from up here." I glanced at my chest.

"Contamination variant below that glows blue. Blood's corrosive—stone, metal, flesh. No interest in encountering it again." Erina finally looked directly at Alvira.

"Your foot." Alvira seemed to remember her ankle wasn't decorative. She shifted weight slightly, expression unchanged.

"Moderate sprain, shoulder contusion. Judgment unimpaired." Jessi, leaning against counter, couldn't help herself.

"Remarkable. Most people report injuries worried about dying too quickly. Lady Alvira delivers hers like operational briefing." She turned to me brightly.

"And you, young master? Besides chest wound—any other damages you'd prefer off official record? Such as certain marks from someone holding on too enthusiastically—""Jessi." Alvira said her name like dropping a blade. Atmosphere paused. Jessi's smile didn't diminish, but she raised both hands in graceful surrender.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop." She said.

"At least until serious business is done." Her mouth said stop. Her eyes had no intention of stopping. I ignored her and looked to Matthews.

"Your side—what happened after the floor went?"

"Cleared area. Withdrew. Waited for you."

"Admirably condensed." Lucas provided expansion.

"After three-headed thing died completely, floors started collapsing in sequence. Matthews physically kicked me and Jessi out—literally, painfully—Erina pulled two worst wounded back here. We tried going back for you, but gap kept producing sounds and blue light. Matthews said going in blind was suicide." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it He paused, expression more serious.

"Then signal sphere Lady Alvira had given us kept flickering on and off for while, so we figured you hadn't died immediately. We held position.""'Hadn't died immediately' is generous framing for survival wish."

"I was going for sincerity." Erina finished examining Alvira's stabilization, pressed carefully along shoulder support, then said quietly:"Mobile, but no more forcing it. Not tonight." Alvira didn't respond immediately. She surveyed the half-destroyed battlefield, then toward where elevator sat hidden. Her expression heavier than before.

"We don't go back down tonight," she said finally.

"Report first. Regroup. Seal the entrance." Lucas blinked.

"Seal it? But there's functional infrastructure—""I know." Alvira's voice wasn't loud, but carried ice-hard quality.

"Which is precisely why we can't let people wander in carelessly." Jessi, who'd been lounging against counter, became noticeably more attentive. She looked from Alvira to me, seeming to register for first time that what we'd encountered might be considerably more complicated than assumed. She was quiet two full seconds. Then familiar expression returned.

"Understood," she said slowly.

"Which means you two are in possession of genuinely significant shared secrets from down there." I closed eyes and inhaled measured breath of thoroughly unpleasant air.

"How do you manage to redirect every practical topic toward the same destination?"

"Natural talent," Jessi answered without shame. She tilted head and turned bright gaze toward Alvira.

"Though I am still curious, Lady Alvira. Surely you two weren't doing only boring things down there—fighting monsters, finding routes, collecting supplies?"... suddenly realizing that what we'd encountered below might be considerably more complicated than she'd originally thought. So she went quiet for exactly two seconds.... Then that infuriatingly familiar grin returned.

"I see," she said slowly.

"So you two really did share some rather significant secrets down there." I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath of air that made me want to die.

"How do you manage to twist every serious topic in that direction?"

"Natural talent," Jessi replied without shame, then tilted her head with a bright smile toward Alvira.

"But I'm still curious, Lady Alvira. You two weren't doing only boring things down there—fighting monsters, finding routes, collecting supplies—were you?" Alvira looked at her coldly.

"Jessi."

"Present."

"If you keep letting that brain imagine what happened below, I'll throw you down there to verify it personally." Jessi let out a soft whistle, completely unintimidated—if anything, looking more delighted.

"So fierce." She glanced at me.

"You really are hard to kill, young master."

"I got a thorough reminder of that just now." The moment those words left my mouth, Alvira drew a sharp, controlled breath beside me—like she'd finally reached her limit and was about to detonate me along with everything else. In the end, she did nothing, just turned her face away with an expression that grew several degrees colder. Which only made the gleam in Jessi's eyes brighter. Perfect. Any hope of peace and quiet on the way back could be safely abandoned.

Yet in that familiar, stomach-churning chaos, the tension that had been locked across my chest finally loosened—just slightly. At least we'd made it back alive. And not just the two of us. The dead mall below was still glowing. The World Tree, 2142, Wyoming, and that phrase about insufficient clearance were all lodged in my mind like half-pulled nails. That would be dealt with later. For now—just for now—we were standing on the side of the living again.

We crossed fractured concrete and black-crusted streaks where blue blood had burned through stone, making our way toward the temporary camp. The distance from collapse site to surface camp had never been long, but today it felt like crossing between two different eras. The luminous dead city remained behind my eyes—the kind of afterimage that surfaces every time you blink. The surface wind served as sharp reminder: stop overthinking, focus on not freezing to death. The camp was quieter than I remembered.

Not empty—just hushed. Wind-shielded braziers flickered between tents, flames pulled thin by Northern gusts. Patrol boots crunched over snow and gravel with dry precision. Those sounds should have been reassuring. Instead, they carried a specific irritation—when you've just crawled out from beneath a mall that should have died centuries ago, encountering a normal human camp inevitably produces the jarring thought: So the world hasn't completely fallen apart yet. I quickly realized that assessment was premature.

Because Valdorin was waiting for us in the command tent. The moment I lifted the flap, heat mixed with medicine and leather hit me. Two oil lamps provided just enough light to illuminate the Northern commander seated behind his field table. No armor—just dark underlayers and a long coat, maps and records spread before him, expression calm to the point of detachment. Yet somehow, simply by occupying that chair, he made the entire tent feel pressed down by an invisible hand, even the air hesitating to move freely.

I swear there are people in this world who can make you examine your conscience for crimes you haven't committed yet, just by raising their eyes. Unfortunately, Valdorin was one of those people.

"You're back." Delivered with the casual tone of someone commenting on the weather. My spine straightened on pure reflex. Alvira moved to stand beside me, shedding the last remnants of her elevator composure. She lifted her chin slightly, resuming her usual icy commander persona—though my peripheral vision caught her hand briefly gripping the edge of her cloak beneath its folds. Very brief. Almost imagined. I didn't mention it. I retain basic survival instincts.

Valdorin's gaze moved across both of us, pausing on the bundle at my shoulder, then on Alvira's damp sleeve edges and mud traces on her boots. No interrogation in that look—something that made you want to volunteer information anyway.

"It appears the lower levels involved more than structural collapse." I sighed internally. This is the trouble with genuinely intelligent people—they've already turned to page two while you're still composing your opening sentence.

"Considerably more." I set the bundle on the table with a solid thump.

"We found Old Civilization infrastructure below. Part of the mall complex, apparently. A guidance system still partially operational, medical station with residual functionality."

"A mall." Valdorin's eyebrow moved fractionally. On his face, that carried the impact of someone else flipping a table. I nodded.

"Yes. A place for purchasing goods, wandering aimlessly, generally squandering your afternoon. Sounds absurd, but the evidence below is unambiguous." Alvira added with characteristic efficiency: "Partial power supply remains active. Medical supplies and autonomous systems partially intact. Most areas damaged, but viable as temporary resupply point."

She delivered this with clean professionalism—deliberately packaging everything that shouldn't be discussed yet and everything she hadn't finished processing into sealed containers. When she finished, she turned her face slightly away. I wisely avoided mentioning the World Tree or A. D. 2142. Not from sudden consideration, but because I remembered her staff technique from the elevator. Pain is educational. Valdorin didn't press immediately. He reached forward and opened the bundle.

Bandages, antiseptic, analgesic tablets, hemostatic patches, thermal blankets, and several items whose names I couldn't provide but whose value was self-evident—all lying quietly in the lamplight. The sight was almost absurd in its effectiveness. In the Northern Reaches, one properly stocked medical kit carries more persuasive weight than ten rousing speeches. Two beats of silence. Valdorin looked up.

"Well done." Said quietly, but I heard genuine weight behind it—the kind that lands harder than enthusiastic praise. Which would have been entirely satisfying, except for his immediate follow-up:"Therefore, I assume you also managed to provoke considerable trouble." I produced a dry laugh.

"Your confidence in me is genuinely moving."

"Not confidence," Valdorin said.

"Experience." The corner of Alvira's mouth twitched—nearly a smile, suppressed before completion. I suspected her mood had improved marginally and she had no intention of letting me know. I filed it away for future reference.

"The lower passage has reusable value, but I wouldn't recommend sending full teams down immediately," I said, offering what could be shared.

"Structural instability, possible remaining threats. The route we took doesn't guarantee safe passage for larger groups. Better to seal most of the entrance, leave markers, send proper surveyors before anything bigger." Valdorin nodded once.

"As for the system down there..." I paused, choosing words carefully.

"Some information is too scattered, too far outside normal parameters. Discussing it now wouldn't guarantee belief. Even if people believed it, that might not be beneficial." The diplomatic version of: I haven't processed this myself, and if anyone demands public explanation tonight, I will perform creative death on the spot. Valdorin looked at me, then at Alvira. She met his gaze steadily. After a moment: "At least tonight, it shouldn't circulate widely." Silence settled over the tent.

Finally, Valdorin retied the bundle, voice dropping slightly.

"Understood. This stays within the command tent for now. No distribution beyond necessary operational adjustments." I exhaled quietly. No emergency performance as storyteller tonight. No explaining luminous dead cities, cheerful mechanical guides, or that phrase lodged in my ear like a splinter: last successful World Tree connection, A. D. 2142. Right now I wanted something hot to drink and a brief period of pretending a centuries-dead civilization hadn't just educated me on my own ignorance.

Fate, naturally, had different priorities. Rapid footsteps outside. The tent flap was thrown open. A scout entered with winter air and urgency, dropping to one knee before his breathing had steadied.

"Report!" Valdorin's head came up.

"Speak." The scout swallowed, voice tight from running.

"Forward posts report movement from Salt Town's direction. Not displaced civilians—organized armed force, approaching Fort Wasatch outer perimeter. Banners... unidentified." The air in the tent changed. I'd barely finished climbing out of underground horrors, and Salt Town landed with the immediate sensation of new trouble queuing up outside. Worse: when Valdorin heard that name, his expression darkened visibly. Very slightly. Which was precisely why it was alarming. I cursed internally. Excellent.

Below: centuries-old luminous dead cities. Above: living trouble marching straight toward us. This world maintained remarkable consistency in its approach to creating difficulties—comprehensive, layered, apparently committed to ensuring no single crisis resolves before the next arrives. Valdorin was already standing, coat on, movements containing no wasted motion.

"Summon all unit commanders. Reset defensive positions." He turned to us, gaze settling briefly on me and Alvira.

"Address your injuries first. Report back in fifteen minutes." I opened my mouth—something about there being no meaningful first priority in our current condition—and received a quiet, precise impact to my shoulder. Alvira spoke without changing expression: "Understood." Tone perfectly standard, as if nothing had happened. Only I could hear the actual message: stop talking and move. I closed my mouth and swallowed both complaint and what remained of my dignity.

Leaving the command tent, I glanced back at the medical supplies on the table. Below, the lights of that dead city were still burning. Above, wind and snow had already arrived first. And I had a very clear, very unwelcome intuition— What we'd brought back from that dead mall wasn't only supplies.