BLOOD CURSE ACADEMIA - PREVIOUS DRAFT EDITION -

Chapter XLIII (43)- The Delver's Journal- "The Archives of Hon Expedition MLXXXIX, Recovered"

By the time Kizu finally translated enough of his atlas to feel comfortable descending into the World Dungeon, midterms arrived. He hardly had a firm grasp on Primordial, but he at least knew the fundamental grammatical structures and key words like ‘danger’ and ‘dead-end.’ Still, even with the basics, he decided to hold off on the expedition until after the testing period. Once the professors were all distracted by grading the tests, he would likely have an easier time slipping away unnoticed. Anna had waited several years already, another week or two wouldn’t change anything. Probably.

Basil had sewn the three of them matching dungeon delver outfits. Even though he still planned to leave the others behind, Kizu still decided it would be idiotic not to take the clothes. Like everything Basl made, it fit perfectly, and he even weaved in enchantments similar to the one on the university uniform to keep the wearer at a comfortable temperature. Plus, it had so many pockets.

History F’s midterm required the students to get in a group of three and pick a subject from a long list to present on. Harvey still avoided Kizu for some reason, so Kizu’s group ended up as himself, Ione, and some nervous looking first-year boy who constantly kept sniffling.

They had decided to each take on a third of the massive list and find the two or three of the most interesting topics, then compare. Kizu looked over his hundreds of options. He was certain there must be interesting stories involved with every event, but it was hard to guess what they might be when they were titled things like, “The Twenty-Third Royal Decree of Emperor Sasaki IX.”

In the end, Kizu decided that “The Sixth Tainted Invasion Attempt of Tross” offered the most interesting title available to him. And he dismissed the idea of finding a second or third option as nia impossible.

Unfortunately, both of his group mates had similar luck to him at finding anything sounding remotely fun to study. Both only had one choice to present. The sniffling boy brought up some famous trade negotiation by the nomadic tribes outside of Tross. But Ione looked smug as she presented her find. “The Archives of Hon Expedition MLXXXIX, Recovered.”

“This,” Ione said with emphasis on the word. “Is what we’ll be studying.”

“Why?” the first year asked.

“Read me the last word there,” Ione instructed.

“Recovered?”

“Exactly.”

“You mean,” Kizu said, rereading the title. “That this expedition never returned. Just the notes?”

“That was my thought. And then I noticed the word ‘expedition.’ It’s either the exploration of a distant country, or it’s the World Dungeon.”

That piqued Kizu’s interest.

“I don’t know,” their third group member said. “Dungeon delving isn’t really that interesting. I guess it sounds flashy, but studying a group of treasure hunters traveling underground won’t help us in the real world. My parents told me about this trade negotiation, it helped end raids on Tross’s routes through the wilderness.”

“You’re outnumbered,” Ione said lazily. “We’re studying the failed expedition.”

“But he hasn’t even said anything,” the boy whined.

“I know he’ll agree.”

And she was right. But that fact didn’t reduce the first year’s grumbling much. He appeared very chagrined at having his topic dismissed and sulked for the remaining period.

At the end of class, every group sent up a representative. Ione was too lazy to bother with it and the other group member was still pouting about their selection, so that left Kizu.

Krimpit looked down from his pulpit as Kizu approached. When Kizu told him his group’s study topic, he rolled his eyes and dismissed him. All things considered, Kizu believed that the best interaction he’d ever experienced with the surly professor. As he was walking away, Kizu noticed Harvey approaching. He appeared oblivious as Kizu lifted a hand to greet him. Instead, he went straight to Krimpit.

Kizu slowed his walk and looked back at his friend.

“Your group members?” Krimpit asked the Tainted first year.

“There was only me left. The other students must be absent.”

Krimpit sighed. “Fine. What is your project’s subject?”

“The Legality of the Edgeland Tournament of 521.”

Krimpit dotted that down and dismissed him, just as he had Kizu.

The bell rang and Kizu positioned himself so Harvey would have to pass him by to leave the classroom. Harvey looked at him and realized this, freezing for several seconds before eventually walking up to him.

“What happened at the Edgeland Tournament of 521?” Kizu asked him as he approached.

“The contestants used body enhancing magic to win every competition,” Harvey said, obviously glad to skip over the pleasantries. “Edgeland had to place a no tolerance on the spellcraft for all future tournaments.”

“What about my bond with Mort? That’s sort of a body enhancement. Would that be allowed?”

“I think familiars disqualify participants,” Harvey said. “Sorry.”

Not that Kizu planned to enter into any tournaments. That sounded extremely boring to him. He kept that opinion to himself though.

“What got you interested in the topic?” Kizu asked. “Wait, let me guess. A cousin was a contestant in a recent Edgeland Tournament?”

Harvey appeared to attempt a forced laugh, but it sounded more like a drowning monkey. “No. A friend mentioned it to me a few days ago. I saw it listed and decided to look into it since I already knew a bit about it.”

“A friend?” Kizu blinked. He had assumed Harvey had avoided leaving his dorms these last few weeks.

“Yeah. You don’t know him,” Harvey quickly added. “I don’t think you’d get along. Anyway, I’ve got to go, see you at Divination tomorrow.”

As he left, Kizu felt something twist his heart. It took him a moment to realize what it was. He was jealous. Harvey had replaced him. But no, it wasn’t like that. People can have more than one friend. He told himself to relax and focus on his own problems.

The library was packed with students as Kizu arrived. Fuller than he had ever seen it before. It took only a couple glances at the other students’ books to realize why. Krimpit must have given the same assignment to all his classes. Kizu weaved his way through the throng, dodging rouge books as they flew down from the shelves. The librarian assistants looked haggard from all the sudden attention. Thankfully, having spent hours upon hours researching translation books and historical records of Primordial, Kizu had a good idea where to start his search.

It only took him about two hours to find a small section of books about Hon Expedition MLXXXIX. Luckily, it looked like no one else picked the subject in any of the other classes. He browsed them and found what looked like a copy of a journal.

Ione had been on the money about the expedition being into the World Dungeon. It wasn’t even that old of an event. Only three decades ago.

The forward was written by a different delver who had happened upon the journal on an expedition a few years after the initial expedition. The original delvers had disappeared entirely. There was no other trace of them, dead or alive. Just the journal.

The start of the journal’s text was dull. It was mostly lists of equipment and a record of its rationed usage. Occasionally, the delver would write about scenery changes. But it wasn’t until a week in that Kizu stopped skimming.

The delving crew had come across an artifact that permanently multiplied nonorganic material. They found it in a tunnel that spiraled down endlessly. The crew had apparently disagreed about whether or not to continue. The monsters in the area were particularly savage, able to move through stone like fish through water. But the artifact required a fuel outside that of the normal blood tax. It required those monsters’ eggs. And the party was split on whether or not the few ancient, preserved eggs they had already found nearby would be enough. Kizu had the impression the journal’s writer was not quite as objectively neutral on the subject as the writing tried to make him believe. It advocated heavily for the benefits that such an enchanted object could achieve. Regardless, the party soon split. A few delvers deciding to travel back to the surface, despite the risk of a smaller group.

The journal’s writer continued the expedition. It explained in detail two of the deaths of the party, as well as a maiming of a third group member. The biggest blow was when the monsters killed the main elementalist in their party, essentially blinding them to further attacks from the stone. After that death, the journal writer stopped writing any details, only acknowledging every death before quickly moving on to describe something else.

The party only retained a third of their initial numbers when they finally located the nest. It was nestled inside a stone tower. Kizu wondered who would build a tower like that so deep underground. Did there used to be an ancient underground civilization? Were buildings like that common deep in the World Dungeon? Unfortunately, the journal didn’t go into any details about the structure, it simply jotted down the location as a fact.

When they entered the nest, they found hundreds of eggs the size of a human’s head. Apparently, one of the delvers was so thrilled he let out a ‘whoop!’ of excitement. Not the right decision. Hundreds of the monsters swarmed in and collapsed on the delving crew. The journal writer claimed to be the only known survivor. The journal speculated that it was possible others escaped, but found the idea unlikely. The survivor had fled down deeper into the dungeon, while the others had tried to push their way back up towards the surface.

Entry 73-

Today I made a den for myself between two slabs of stone. I found an ancient table and dragged it up against the opening to make a door to keep me out of sight of any roaming creatures. There’s a stream of water not far away. I can’t use spells anymore, the risk of discovery is too great, so I drink the water unfiltered. I discarded all my enchanted possessions (including the mythical object multiplicator) in a large hollow pipe not far away. I hope the metal casing will keep it undiscovered until I escape. Thankfully the stream attracts smaller dungeon monsters I can kill and eat unaided.

Entry 74-

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why I even write. I think it has been more than a month now since I last saw the sun. I often talk to myself and pretend my crew still stands beside me. I know the noise creates risk, but I no longer care.

Entry 75-

I think something in the water has made me ill. I barely have enough energy to push my door open. I’ve been forced to start eating the eggs we scavenged from the monster nest.

Entry 76-

I thought I would die last night. It seemed a certainty. But my ancestors listened to my prayers and guided a savior to me. A fox, of all things, came to me and dropped a pear on my floor. A completely normal pear as far as I can tell. I thought maybe it didn’t see me, but it kept coming back with more fruit, despite me eating it all after it stashes it. I don’t think a fox has ever even been recorded found at this depth underground. But I accept any aid my ancestors set before me.

Entry 77-

I’m well again. Strong enough to move around freely. I’ve decided I need to leave. I can’t spend the rest of my life trapped underground. I will find my way back to the surface. And I plan to bring the fox with me. It saved me, so it’s only fair that I now save it from this horrid place. If all goes well, I will be rejoined with my fellow delvers in a few days.

The journal entries ended there. There was a small insert about how none of the delvers returned to the surface and all of them were presumed dead upon the journal’s discovery. The rest of the book was a detailed account of how the journal’s discovery changed laws. Apparently, dungeon delving became far more regulated. It also became illegal to dungeon delve without a certified divination expert in the party. All sorts of smaller laws also now restricted delvers. The journal’s discovery was considered a small thing in itself, but it broke a dam of other problems. Kizu assumed that section is what Krimpit cared about.

Kizu felt irritated by the ending of the entries. It was an unsatisfying end to the story. He couldn’t help filling in the blanks about the survival of the journal writer. Judging by the words, the writer had been committed to going home. But if not the writer, then Kizu was left wondering who placed the journal in the path of the delver who had discovered it years later. It likely had been written in parchment, which wild creatures would eat in a heartbeat. And he doubted that dungeon monsters would shy away from it any more than a dog would. So, how had it remained preserved?

For the sake of the assignment, Kizu got out his own piece of parchment and wrote on it a few notes about the journal. At the very least, he now knew a bit about what sort of supplies professional delvers took with them when they embarked on expeditions. He could base his own supplies off that information.

Eventually, the library became cramped to the point of suffocating, so Kizu left, still wondering about the journal’s ending.