Eternal Rest

"I take it you’ve had your share of wars in your time?" Darsumi asked, and Bones confirmed that he certainly had. Some things never change—war never changes. Good times, though.

"Well, these are different times, which you’ve no doubt experienced already. But what you’ve seen so far is a rather inaccurate representation of both individual and group strength. You’ve fought and killed men before, but the people you’ll face on the battlefield will be on a higher level, both mentally and skill-wise. They’ll have better gear, superior skill mastery, and they’ll fight in groups. And I’m not just talking about soldiers; I’m referring to adventurers who are exploiting the war for experience and merit!"

"You asked about the cultivation chamber we found at Covingster's. Major guilds use similar chambers for training, but theirs are larger and more efficient. The mana-rich environment takes a toll on the body, so users take advantage of the chamber to temper their bodies, strengthen them, and raise their resistances to elements, poison, and even pain."

"The adventurers you’ll meet in battle might be members of major guilds, and if so, they would have trained in such environments," Dar concluded. After some thought, he added that Bones' biggest advantage was his infinite stamina and the fact that his enemies don’t know he’s undead.

"Avoid critical injuries, and they’ll never bring you down!" Dar added before changing the topic. They talked for an hour, and Dar suggested that Bones visit the beautiful coasts of the Zaris Kingdom to the northeast and the mountains to the south, where the dwarf kingdom of Ebasal was located. The mountains were a sight to behold!

Hem joined them, not wanting to miss Bones’ departure. After overhearing the discussion about the mountains, he couldn’t help but voice his opinion.

"Ye definitely need to visit our home! The Ebasal mountains stretch as far as the eye can see! And flying high above the mountains is the fortress-city where the current king lives!"

"Flying… fortress-city?" Bones repeated, wondering if he’d misheard.

"That’s right, Bones. The capital of the Ebasal Kingdom and the residence of the king is a flying fortress-city called Elysium. I suppose I should tell you a bit about our ancestors first," Dar said, glancing out the window to see if dawn was approaching. It was still dark outside, but there was less than an hour until Bones would have to depart.

"The current King Dhoral is a descendant of our ancestor, Gobrick Blackmail, a legend among the dwarves."

"That’s right!" Hem exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table and waking Mirami. She looked around, confused, then turned to the apologetic and panting Hem and asked what was going on.

"Gobrick!" he said, and Mirami responded, "The greatest!" before going back to sleep.

Both dwarves and Bones shared a smile, and before Dar could say anything, Hem continued.

"No joke! He really was the greatest ascendant! He gained his reputation by fighting against the Skelly King, and after the battle, his defensive skill, Equip Armor, became legendary ‘nd widely known!"

"Ye see, Gobrick was actually a transcendent armorsmith. With peak metal affinity, he could materialize a set of Soul Armor that he could instantly equip."

"Soul Armor?" Bones couldn’t help but interject.

"Aye. It’s a black chainmail armor crafted with a piece of his soul! It gave him absolute defense against soul attacks, but more importantly, it allowed him to fight toe to toe against the Skelly King!"

"That sounds amazing!" Bones said after recalling what he’d read about the Skeleton King. He asked what had happened to Gobrick, given that his son was now the king. Hem's initial excitement faded, and he leaned back in his chair, clearly weighed down by Bones' question. Hem slowly stood up and said he was going to take a piss.

Dar chuckled and explained that Hem looked up to Gobrick and that Gobrick was the reason Hem chose the armorsmith profession. "Never mind him; I'll continue where he left off," Dar said after Hem left.

"After becoming an ascendant, Gobrick united us dwarves under a single banner. However, as you can see, there’s no helping fighting among ourselves. Before the fortress, there was a mountain peak rich in clusters of mana crystals and stones, and it was heavily responsive to metal affinity. Gobrick transformed it into a flying fortress using formations, separating a peak from the rest of the mountain. Over time, the fortress became a city, and it has been flying over the Kingdom for thousands of years."

"The only way to get there now is by flying an airship, and they don’t let just anyone inside the city. A renowned reputation with the dwarves will grant you entry, or you might receive an invitation from the King himself."

"Gobrick was last seen about forty years ago. After that, he disappeared from the public eye, and shortly after, his son announced that he was taking over the kingship as the current King wished to focus on leveling up."

"Load of bullshit if you ask me. If anyone knows what really happened, they've kept it to themselves," Dar explained, adding that Bones should definitely visit the Ebasal mountains but should probably avoid mentioning either of their names—referring to himself and Hem.

"Enough about that. There is another place that might be of more interest to you," Dar said, piquing Bones' curiosity.

"More interesting than a flying city? Do tell!"

"The Desolate Lands," Dar replied. At that moment, a cold draft blew in as a window to the tavern slammed open. Dar shivered for a moment before getting up to close it. "Blasted cold. It's still snowing!" Dar grumbled before returning to Bones. "Where was I?"

"The Desolate Lands!" Bones answered.

"Right. What do you know about them?"

Just as Bones was about to reply, Hem returned, carrying two bottles and three mugs. "Thought you went to take a piss?" Bones asked, and Hem gave him a grin, saying he did but helped himself on the way back…

Hem handed a mug to each and poured drinks. Bones made a cocktail by mixing his drink with a mana potion, much to the dwarf's dismay. Once it was quiet, Bones answered the question.

"I don’t know much. Just that it’s a barren land void of mana and that I’ve read about a war between two major kingdoms to the south that led to its desolation."

"Ooo, ye talkin’ 'bout the Desolate Lands, eh?" Hem asked, receiving a nod from both of them. Dar replied to Bones that he was partially correct and then provided further details.

"The Desolate Lands aren’t completely void of mana. With the arrival of a system, wars and clashes between clans, sects, cities, and even countries became more frequent. The fighting between strong forces, especially ascendants, led to the entire southern area becoming unstable and barren. Even now, mana fluctuates constantly—some areas are completely void, while others are extremely rich in mana. And you’re right… hmm, how long has it been? Four or five hundred years, perhaps?" Dar wondered, turning to Hem, who just shrugged.

"Doesn’t matter! Two powerful kingdoms waged war for decades over resources. In their final confrontation, ascendants fought and nearly destroyed everything. Other kingdoms formed an alliance, similar to what was done against the Skeleton King, and put an end to their destruction by wiping out every major power in both kingdoms."

"The aftermath of the war was a land almost devoid of mana for over a century. Only then did people begin to inhabit the area and adapt to the new environment. These so-called barbarians and nomads learned to survive under such harsh conditions, focusing on reinforcing their bodies and mastering battle techniques!"

In such an unfavorable and disadvantageous situation, the most common classes became warrior variants, with ranger variants focusing on tracking and survival. Mages were rare, but among them, healers, and earth and sand manipulators were most common.

"The desert is unforgiving, Bones. Sandstorms kilometers high and wide, and deadly monsters adapted to life under a scorching sun… but the lands also present an opportunity."

"What kind of opportunity?" Bones asked.

"The fluctuating mana caused violent disturbances in the atmosphere. Not just sandstorms, but gusts of wind, gales, and storms! Over time, the ruins of cities were buried under sand, but they’re still there. More importantly, many treasures and much wealth were buried with them!"

"True, true," Hem confirmed, adding that many expeditions are sent to find and excavate these treasures even now. However, it's not easy—wild dungeons frequently manifest, and with no one to clear them, the dungeons break open and monsters are left loose. The Desolate Lands have the highest number of dungeon breaks on the continent. Many dungeon monsters fall prey to the local beasts and monsters, which strengthens them, while a few powerful enough continue to adapt and live in the desert.

"But that’s not what I meant by an interesting place!" Dar said, finally getting to the point. "The desolation stretches further south and southwest, and at the end of the Desolate Lands is a great chasm in the earth. That chasm is a rift, Bones. A rift to the other side—a Nether Realm!"

Dar was right. Hearing about the rift definitely piqued Bones' interest, and he asked Dar questions about it until it was time to leave.

The three of them sat in their lounge chairs in silence for a moment until Bones started to get up. "Well, I guess this is it."

"Aye! Boney, it’s been a pleasure!" Hem said, giving Bones a strong and firm handshake. Bones could hear his bones cracking from the pressure—Hem was incredibly strong! "Don’t cause too much trouble and be careful, eh?" Bones nodded, and Hem turned and left the room, probably heading back to his bed. Dar waited until Hem had gone and then turned to Mirami, who was sleeping like a log. He smiled but didn’t wake her. He then turned to Bones and asked, "Shall we?"

"Are you accompanying me?" Bones asked, but Dar gave him an apologetic look and said he was going out to gather intel on what was happening in the city. Bones nodded, and after leaving the tavern, they walked together down the street, parting ways at the intersection after exchanging a few final words.

Bones used the still-unfamiliar public transport system to reach the southern gates and followed the street signs to his destination. His goal was a dilapidated building that seemed to have weathered the passage of time. He knocked on the door twice and waited. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing a gaunt and shriveled old man with white sideburns. The old man squinted at Bones and asked what he wanted at such an early hour.

Bones introduced himself and asked for Coachman Markus. The old man narrowed his eyes and inquired about Bones' identity. Bones hesitated for a moment, not over an existential question but in deciding how to present himself. After a brief pause, he said he was Norris the thief. The old man cracked a crooked smile and let him inside.

"I was expecting you," he said as Bones entered, motioning for him to follow.

"You are Coachman Markus, I presume?" Bones asked.

"Presume correctly," the old man confirmed but didn’t elaborate further. Bones followed Markus down a hallway into a spacious area where a wagon used for transporting prisoners was stationed. Markus picked up a set of handcuffs and tossed them to Bones, who caught them, then pointed toward the wagon.

"No one told you? Bah… spits Put these on and head inside while I harness the horses and attach them to the wagon. They need to stay on until we reach the camp, understand?" Markus said, referring to the handcuffs. Bones realized he was to be treated as a prisoner until they reached the camp.

Bones put on the handcuffs and climbed into the wagon. He sat at the far end and waited for the coachman. Fifteen minutes later, the wagon started moving toward the southern gates. As they approached, Bones sensed the presence of dozens of guards. The wagon stopped in front of the squad, and one of the guards approached the coachman. They exchanged a few words, and soon Bones sensed more people coming from the side. The reinforced doors of the wagon opened, and one by one, men in handcuffs entered. In total, there were eight prisoners—correction, volunteers for transport.

Once everyone was onboard, the guards opened the gates and allowed the wagon, accompanied by an escort, to leave the city. Since the attack the day before, the city had been on lockdown with an increased guard presence on the streets and at every gate. The wagon continued down the road south, and Bones looked out through a small window, feeling as though much more time had passed since he first walked this road toward the capital.

The wagon moved slowly, at a jogging pace, and it took hours to reach an intersection. The road split west toward the North Point watchpost, which Bones had briefly visited before, and south toward a small garrison, which was apparently their next stop before reaching the camp at the frontlines.