Chương 108: Chapter 105: [Breaking] the [Act]

Out of pure instinct, every member of the [Breakers] cleaned their blades and readied their weapons. Despite the lobby of the [Obsidian Mansion] only containing spectral enemies that didn't contain corporeal forms, their conditioning was beaten into their very bones. It was always better to be prepared than hasty, and in this case, the extra handful of minutes neglect would save wouldn't aid them at all.

Behind them, filling the auditorium seating from one end to another, countless ethereal cores glittered like dewdrops in the morning light. Mowing down the [Umbral Patrons] was not strictly necessary, since they were low-level, neutral monsters, but that was part of the job. Test every possibility. Leaving nothing to chance. Break everything. Braum gave the auditorium a contemplative look.

Very few people would stop to consider the little details in a normal dungeon, let alone something purporting to be nightmare difficulty. Most adventurers would label a dungeon as "room A leads to room B," and they'd leave it at that. Few would appreciate the quality of the seating or the durability of the stage's wood… especially since they couldn't be hacked up, looted, and hauled away. But those chairs and that stage showed Braum several things that might not be obvious to the untrained eye.

For one, the seats were real velvet stuffed with cotton, fitted with coil springs. These weren't simple benches. While that tidbit meant nothing when it came to combat, it meant this room was built to accommodate the elite of the elite… and Chaos valued it highly enough to treat it with respect. While Braum didn't envision adventurers roaming into this hall to find a nice place to take a nap, it should at least force them to question what other great lengths this dungeon might go through to preserve its history.

Or, in simple man's terms…. Nobody cared to watch a play about a boring gate guard in the middle of Helmhollow. For something like that, if it even existed, people might be seated on the ground. But since these seats were quite likely more expensive and of finer make than anything in Horizon… it was reasonable to believe that sitting in them would lend one a story worth hearing. The same went for the stage, in slightly more practical terms.

While Braum didn't think anything of it at the time, his crew fought ruthlessly atop it. And yet it wasn't damaged in the slightest. Not a single scratch, not a nick from a blade or a dent from a hammer marred its glossy finish. That told Braum that this stage was more than a prop for a handful of portals. People were meant to fight here; and if they withstood his team's strongest blows, what did that say about the enemies that had yet to come?

But there were no enemies right now; the [Breakers] had killed them all. And, while the [Umbral Patrons] dropped no loot and offered no resistance, it was a necessary action. Now the guild could be informed that they weren't worth fighting. They were background characters at best, and with there being over two thousand of them in the room, a lower-level party might actually get overrun if the neutrals were provoked. So that left a single portal, the [First Act].

Braum checked in with his party members, sent a final [Ready Check] through the party interface, and crossed the threshold. Braum was immediately assaulted by bright light the moment he passed through. He'd been able to make parts of the image swirling in the portal vortex out, enough that he recognized this place as a copy of Horizon. But as far as where in the big city… or when… that was another matter.

Strictly speaking, the Sun was bright and high above them, perhaps around noon, and Braum scrambled to collect his senses. The brine in the salty air stung his nose as roaring chatter assaulted his ears. They hadn't been dumped into some waiting chamber or safety zone; instead, they were in the middle of a busy street. And yet, nobody around them batted an eye. This was peculiar.

Chaos was using heavy human crowds to act as boundaries, and as his companions regained their bearings, Braum attempted to push his way through the wall of people into the closest building. He could not. Realistically, there shouldn't be many people who could keep him from going where he wanted to go. The fact that nobody cried out when he ran face-first into a group of "pedestrians" and kicked at their shins, Braum understood that these weren't real people… which should be quantified.

"People" inside of a dungeon came in three flavors. Vital, important, and inconsequential. Technically, none of them were real, not like Braum and his team were real. Perhaps, once upon a time, they were real people, immortalized for eternity in Chaos' dungeons. Vital people could be friends or foes. In the case of some of Humanity's greatest accomplishments, both heroes and villains were given life.

The heroes usually aided any party who entered their dungeon, acting as the people they were molded after may have once done, while the villains usually mimicked their counterparts flawlessly. Important people may or may not have had historical basis and roots, but in Braum's experience, more often than not, they did. They might be someone related to a Vital person, a friend, a family member, a lover…

or they might be integral enough to the story Chaos wanted to tell that she gave them a minimal amount of wit and understanding. They usually didn't have any personality of their own… much like the [Custodians] and [Ushers] he previously fought. They existed to immerse delvers into the story, such that they weren't simply skimming through a play as it unfolded, but living through it. And then there was the inconsequential. Braum would consider this… wall of flesh to be inconsequential people.

They didn't follow true biology, they couldn't be [Identified], and they didn't act or behave as sapient beings ought. As such, they weren't really people, were they? As if to prove it to himself, Braum reared back his hammer… and let it fly. It crashed into the hipbone and thigh of two nearby men, and they didn't even flinch. Braum recoiled as if he'd just struck a stone wall and there was no trace of his attack. Yes, these people were the dungeon's boundary: no more, no less.

"Wha' time period d'ya think we're in?" Evra asked. The Imp had her notebook out and she was dictating observations.

"Unsure," Braum mused. He wasn't the foremost authority on human fashion.

"I'd say nothing in the last 50 years," came Angus' hollow reply.

"If for no other reason than I don't recognize any current styles."

"Older than that, I'd wager," Warren said, sniffing the air.

"Something about this place seems very familiar."

"Worth noting?" Braum asked.

"You see something you've seen before?"

"Hrrrn," he growled.

"No. Can't place it, but my nose is tingling."

"And it's not the sea, I take it?" Braum confirmed.

"I don't think there's any doubt this place is supposed to be Horizon."

"Was thinking the same thing," Argus agreed, "But I don't know this street. Or these shops. It's not familiar to me."

"So I take it we haven't been here," Braum surmised. He didn't know if he should be disappointed or excited. Entering a dungeon set in a modern city was unheard of. There was so much to unpack here, if only he had the time to do it!

"Can't be too far back," Angus said.

"There's enough people in these streets to form a proper crowd. Judging from the sheer number of bodies, and how developed the street is…at most, I'd put us 600 years in the past." Several people whistled.

"Several centuries is quite the time frame to sift through," Braum conceded.

"What do you suppose Chaos wants to tell us from that period?"

"Could be several things," Rook chimed in. The [Rogue] was a bit of a history buff.

"But I'd wager we're lookin' at just around a hun'red years ago."

"What makes you say that?" Braum asked.

"Them," Rook replied grimly. He pointed ahead where a group of five people wearing red was gathered suspiciously on the corner.

"Mob check."

"The ones in the red? I see 'em," Braum growled. He made a quick note in his journal before stashing it away… enemies, red; friendlies, green. While the congested wall of people corralled the street, they mostly didn't move. However, they weren't the only people inside the dungeon, as many men and women wearing shades of green traversed the busy street, seemingly going about their daily lives. One of them even tried to sell [Oranges] to the group.

"Fine day for a walkabout, govnah?" One of the [Thugs] in red said as Braum approached. His eyes widened and he nearly tripped; he wasn't expecting a dungeon enemy to call out to him.

"Lookin' to see the sights of our grand city?

'Ow's about a little coin for a local's grace?"

"We'll make do on our own, thank you very much," Braum replied gruffly, though he didn't expect his words to have any effect. They didn't. Some of the other men in red tried circling the group, and they would have attacked…if the [Breakers] didn't see it coming a mile away. The fight was over before it began; several quick strikes, some slashes, and the purple residue from a lingering [Curse] made short work of them.

"Level 500 Elites," Warren announced, like a doctor giving a diagnosis.

"Rather doable for most of the guilds that gathered in Abbyton."

"Indeed," Braum said, retrieving his notes.

"So far, this dungeon has exceeded my expectations. Now…Rook. You mentioned a hundred years. Can you explain?"

"Aye," Rook nodded firmly as he glared at some of the men he'd just cut down. Strangely, none of them had died, but Braum was starting to build a framework for this dungeon. It might make sense yet. City… guards… respond… after… kills, Braum wrote. A group of three tall humans in silver armor appeared from the depths of the wall-crowd as soon as the fight was over and quickly hauled the [Thugs] away. Several small sacks and coin purses were left behind, meaning they still got loot.

If they weren't allowed to kill their enemies, that meant the story Chaos was trying to tell revolved around a person (or group of people) who wouldn't have taken lives. And yet, the surrounding crowds didn't seem outraged that a party got attacked in broad daylight, so there must be extenuating circumstances.

"These ruffians belong to a famous gang," Rook explained.

"Went by the name o' [Redwings]. Ran havoc over Horizon during the Age of Upheaval; not even the party of Heroes could permanently break 'em up."

"I see," Braum nodded. That explained things. Despite being in the middle of a busy road, Braum dropped to his knees and lowered his head in prayer. Perhaps, after all these years, Chaos was finally about to give the world some insight behind the scenes of those wondrous days.

But if she was, it wasn't right away. The [Breakers] encountered multiple pods of mobs to fight and they dispatched each one. They then took their time exploring up and down the highway, exploring every nook and cranny. Several alleyways branched off, leading to back entrances of small shops and several extra enemies, but one rewarded them with a treasure chest. They didn't need any of the loot it dropped, but it wasn't Soulbound, so they retrieved it for the guild.

The blazing sun above them really messed with their perception of time. It didn't budge an inch, meaning time was effectively stalled for the people in this dungeon, but that proposed a secondary problem for any potential delvers. No night. Might make camping difficult. Each member of the [Breakers] could stay up for an entire day if need be, but even they would eventually need to rest. Especially if they wanted to keep their wits about them and remain prepared for any unforeseen surprises.

But, no matter how awake Braum was, no matter how ready he felt… nothing could prepare him for the first true encounter of the dungeon. Following the linear path Chaos had given them, the [Breakers] wandered down a wide alley, only to find themselves face to face with a dwarven legend.

"Adventurer! I'm glad you've come! You're just in time for a celebration. We're just about to get started; are you interested?"

Braum stared, mouth agape and eyes full of undisguised wonder, at the dwarven man in front of him.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. [Hank the Tank] Hero Level:???

Braum was speechless. Behind him, he could hear his party members gasp; they, too, must recognize him. Not only was Hank considered the foremost authority of dwarven tanks and a recognized Hero by every nation, but he was a member of the exclusive [Daybreakers] guild.

"You…you're him," Braum stammered, forgetting entirely that he was talking to a creation of a dungeon and not a real man.

"You're Hank. Hank the Tank."

"Aye," Hank actually answered, looking at Braum curiously.

"I be Hank."

"You're a hero," Braum breathed, feeling like a schoolboy of 9 summers.

"You're our inspiration." Hank smiled and laughed…but that's as far as the conversation was allowed to go. Braum could see the limited amount of intellect hidden behind the dungeon creation's eyes realign to its pre-defined script, and he was woefully sad. There were few treasures in Braum's vaults he wouldn't give to meet the legend in the flesh. Sadly, this facsimile was no replacement for the genuine thing.

"We're the [Breakers]," Braum heard Angus try to explain from behind him.

"We've modeled ourselves after your original guild."

"Always great to meet a fan!" The dungeon copy roared, "Hopefully, my example will help lead you down the right path. Keep it up! Someday, I'm sure you'll surpass me! But for now…You're just in time for a celebration. We're just about to get started, are you interested?" With a sudden pit of unexpected sadness, Braum said yes. …and was promptly blindsided by the dungeon once again.

"Great!" the dwarf clapped.

"Just bring some of these supplies to whoever needs them, and we're good to go!" Braum and the rest of the team were quickly swept up in a situation that was rapidly devolving into madness. Carts rolled into the alley, blocking the way out… all while one of the nearby vendors seemed to lose control of his stock. The cages from an animal dealer burst open, releasing vile creatures into the fray. Braum instantly focused on a [Miniature Manticore] while his team moved to reposition…

and he was immediately launched across the arena by a wayward [Goat].

"Did we just stumble into a boss arena?!" Angus yelled, trying (and failing) to [Taunt] the [Goat].

"Anybody ever hear of Hank the Tank needing help rounding up animals?!" Evra complained. She was busy dodging venomous blasts from a [Viper], which was frustratingly keeping itself out of line of sight. Braum shook the stars out of his eyes. First, he'd been [Slapped] by that giant gloved hand, and now a rear-kick from a barnyard animal was having him see double. This dungeon was dangerous. If they managed to make it out of this, he definitely needed to make a note about status effects and stuns.

Fortunately, the trio of bosses was under level 600. Unfortunately, killing them wasn't the encounter's win condition. In fact, just like the enemies along the street, these animals couldn't be killed at all. Only stunned. And, after a small chunk of time, they revived at full health. The group quickly remembered Hank's words and got to delivering crates. After several hectic minutes, where everyone got punted multiple times and Warren actually needed to concentrate on healing, they managed to set things in order.

The animals were once again caged, Hank clapped them on the back (making Braum's stomach do a flip), and there was a small breather between fights.

"I ain't ever heard of no party where Hank the Tank of all people stood around and watched noobies get worked by goats," Rook complained as they quickly surveyed the area.

"Almost makes me wish I could have seen it in person," Angus agreed. The entire time, Hank, as well as several other high-level important people, milled about on the outskirts of the arena instead of jumping in. Had they done this in real life? Had there really been an impromptu party that escalated out of control? Had the old heroes staged it for a laugh? Braum wasn't allowed any answers. A troupe of eclectic [Bards] showed up and started playing dwarven death metal. They even had bagpipes!

The [Breakers] were well informed of their heritage's ritualistic music, so they were ready when the mosh pit came. They spread out to avoid area-of-effect elbows and headbangs, all while Warren rooted himself atop a nearby stack of crates and started healing.

"Nice day for it, right?" A high-pitched, bubbly voice from somewhere mid-trunk nearly spooked him out of treeform. He glanced down, shocked to see…a gnome, of all things. To make matters infinitely more confusing, the strange girl was some kind of [Blacksmith]!

"Braum!" Warren called out warily.

"Braum!"

"What is it?!"

"There's a gnome, Braum!"" Ahm a wee bit busy fer yer games, War!"

"AND IT'S A [SMITH], BRAUM!!"

"Why in the blazes is a gnome a smith?!" Angus cried out. Braum didn't have the mental capacity to contemplate the strangeness of gnomes, not with his health steadily plummeting. Fortunately, they were able to pacify the pit, and the [Bards] shifted into a soothing, calm melody instead. Since no treasure immediately appeared, Braum knew they didn't have much time before the next encounter, and he wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"Angus," he quickly called out.

"You've smitthed in Deepholme. You ever see a gnomish smith?"

"No," Angus denied instantly.

"[Engineers]? Yes. [Tinkerers]? Yes. Something like that?" He pointed to the tiny figure with pitch black hair and bright pink highlights set into twin pigtails, slaving away at an anvil with a hammer twice her size.

"Not in Helena's Halls have I seen such a thing." Braum cast a quick [Inspect] and immediately frowned. At the very least, she was an important person. She was Elite…and level 750. Braum's frown thinned into a tight line. Even during the Age of Upheaval, 750 levels was incredibly high for a craftsman. Something fishy was going on, but he couldn't place it.

"Great work, Adventurer!" Sadly, he didn't have any more time to unravel this mystery. Hank came running back, and Braum was slightly nervous for the next task. While the [Breakers] handled the first two parts of this "boss" section admirably, a level 500 party would struggle. He could see many groups wiping here, even if they were prepared. Without a proper rest time between each match, this arena was turning into a severe test of endurance.

"Nothing like a little light music to really set the mood!" Hank said joyfully.

"With all that out of the way, I'd say this celebration is a rousing suc- by the gods!"

"Helena's Hearth, what's that?!" Rook cried. Braum and the others turned just in time to see a gigantic [Greater Fire Elemental] crawl out of the depths of the gnome's forge. It let out a mighty roar as it grew until it filled a quarter of the arena, filling the alley with sweltering heat.

"Angus, tell me you know what that is!" Braum cried, putting himself between his team and the living tower of flame.

"[Emmisary of Baelor]!" Angus shouted.

"That gnome's a true smith! That's a smith's skill! [Baelor's Blessing]!" Angus did not main his crafting profession, but he was a skilled [Armorsmith] nonetheless. If he said it was a high-ranked skill, Braum believed him. …not that knowing what it was would help them kill it.

"It's an elemental!" Rook cried out.

"Evra, bind it!"" I'm a [Warlock] ya ninny!

"Evra shouted back." Nae a [Shaman]!

"You can't!" Angus tried to explain over the roar of the fire.

"The smith already is!"

"–BE PURGED!" the [Elemental] finished roaring, shattering a symbolic chain linking its two wrists together. Braum could feel his under-armor starting to dry out as his sweat evaporated from the heat. This was going to suck. He clenched his teeth and swore." Fook."

While, strictly speaking, not a difficult fight (due to their levels), the scalding heat baking them inside their armor and the overflow of soot and ashes made killing the [Greater Fire Elemental] miserable. Braum could feel the welts and blisters forming on his skin, and Warren's healing could only take them so far before they needed to rest. Hank once again came out, congratulated them for a job well done, and retreated into the immovable crowd to enjoy the party.

Braum wished he could get a few minutes of alone time with the dungeon's recreation, but it wasn't meant to be. However, now that he knew such a bizarre event was cataloged by Chaos herself, Braum was insistent on raiding Horizon's library for any stray details he might be able to find about what really went on this day. After finishing this dungeon, they would take at least a week off, partially to rest and recover, partially to let the dungeon lockout clear.

He watched Rook retrieve their reward (some leather pants suitable for a much lower-level [Rogue]), while Angus was still staring at the gnome. Apparently, defeating the [Elemental] was a crucial step in completing high-level crafting, and he was eager to see what the gnome was making. Strangely, this Melia character hadn't turned inconsequential after her part in the fight. The dungeon still gave her a name, showed her level, and now that Braum had more time to look at her, her title. [Grandmaster Blacksmith].

No wonder Angus was interested. Braum didn't begrudge his friend the opportunity to observe such a prestigious person, but he wondered how much he'd truly be able to learn. He tried calling out once, but Angus shushed him impatiently, so he shrugged and waited.

"There!" The gnome said proudly, striking a glowing metal ingot.

"All done!" To the group's immense surprise, she turned to Angus behind her.

"Heya! You're a [Smith]! For your help, I'll give you this!" The tiny creature used a skill and cooled part of the glowing metal into a vibrant, multicolored metal bar. The thing was massive, in Braum's eyes enough to work an entire suit of armor, but she separated a portion of it and passed it along to Angus.

[Elementium Bar] Level: 750 Rarity: Epic Quality: 5 Stars Angus' jaw dropped as he hastily stored the bar.

"She gave me [Elementium], Braum. [Elementium]." Braum was happy for his friend, but he was starting to have suspicions. What was Chaos trying to tell? What's the story here? How did this relate to the Destroyer of Worlds? Obviously, the Heroes were involved. Hank was present, so was this [Act] merely an introduction to his part? Surely Chaos wouldn't feel the need to devise an entire storyline around one Hero now where she never had in the past.

There were enough books written about the Heroes that Braum felt there wasn't a need. But what did he know? Maybe there was something else? Clearly there was, because he'd never heard of a story involving a back-alley party in Horizon before. And so far, there were only a handful of people introduced who'd actually matter. There was only one vital person so far, and that was Hank. Only one of the important people had a real name: Melia the gnome. Everybody else was a [Baker], a [Florest], or a [City Guard].

Even the next boss was simply called an [Enforcer]. Braum took his notes as the hours quickly slipped by, and it wasn't until the very end that the group stumbled upon something valuable. A [Shadowy Figure] called out to them from an alley near the garrison and they diverted down the path.

"Adventurers," the figure said in a suspiciously androgynous voice.

"You've seen the Heroes." It wasn't a question.

"Be wary."

"What do you mean?" Braum scoffed. The Heroes were heroes for a reason. If this were anywhere else besides a dungeon, he'd brush the figure off as a lunatic.

"Not all is as it seems. They're hiding something. Something big. Something powerful. Something dangerous."

"Anybody with a bunch o' levels is dangerous," Rook scoffed. The [Shadow] turned its misty form toward him.

"But they don't hold the fate of the world in their hands, do they? The Heroes do. And they're such a secretive bunch."

"Psh," Evra waved a hand.

"They like their privacy. So what?"

"Have you ever stopped to consider who they let in their party?" The [Figure] asked.

"Why they let them tag along? Do the Heroes pity them? Or is it the other way around? Beware the amethyst eyes," the [Figure] said, dissolving into smoke. Braum frowned.

"What the hells was that about?" Angus asked.

"I'm confused."

"As am I, old friend," Braum sighed.

"As am I."

"Sooo," Evra complained, "That was a waste 'o time?"

"Never," Braum shook his head.

"Chaos never puts things into her dungeons without a reason. We might never understand them, but they're there for a reason."

"So you're suggestin'...?"

"That we have some research to do," Braum sighed.

"Starting with the most famous party of all the Visitors: [Daybreakers]." Perhaps this was the secret Chaos wanted to impart through the [Obsidian Mansion]. Were the Heroes not as bright and shiny as history would lead them to believe? Was there a traitor in their midst? Were the other acts of this dungeon a hidden saga of betrayal at the pinnacle of Humanity? Did they have to put down one of their own, like they'd done to so many other existential threats? Is that why this was the [House that Death Built]?

Or could this finally shed some light into the depths of insanity regarding the Visitor's final days? Had the [Destroyer of Worlds] actually been called to action without anybody realizing it? Braum's head was filled with questions as they wrapped up the rest of [Act 1]. He was sincerely grateful for the opportunity they'd been given to explore a dungeon nobody had ever seen before, but he'd reached his limit. He needed to decompress.

Maybe he would splurge for a quick travel to a [Hot Spring], let him clear his mind and sort through his thoughts. He didn't know what to make of what he learned today, other than he only knew he needed to run more [Acts]. Only then would the puzzle be complete. And speaking of world-ending dragons…." Oh ho ho," a deep, female voice called out." What a glorious den I have found! Perhaps I shall rest."

A shadow flew overhead, blocking out the sunlight for an entire plaza, shuddering under the immense weight of an [Obsidian Dragon]. The mountainous creature was the [Act]'s final boss, being labeled as such and boasting the highest level they'd seen yet. Still… the [Breakers] had fought bigger and badder before. The group scrambled to the ready… just in time to see the doors of the nearby [Post Office] burst open… and a single enraged man leaped forth.

"Begone, foul beast!"

"Is that…Andrini?!" Rook gasped.

"The [Postmaster]?!" Braum's jaw fell open as a very different sort of local legend presented himself. He knew of Horizon's [Postmaster] as a stubborn, bullheaded man who'd lived through the Age of Upheaval. But he had no idea the idiot had the gall to throw stones at an [Obsidian Dragon]! Braum hefted his shield as the dragon playfully scared some pedestrians off the street. An irreverent thought consumed his mind. What if he was wrong? What if Chaos wasn't telling a story about subterfuge and intrigue?

What if there wasn't some hidden conspiracy that had been festering in the shadows for a century and now needed to be brought to light? What if… Bartolo Andrini was the secret Hero all this time?