Jack finished writing and nodded. Took you only a minute to change your mind and help. Well, at least by a bit.

Hunter stood up, groaning like old men did, and grabbed the yellowed paper in Jack’s hands. After a second, Jack realized his mistake and swiftly took it back. “I’ll read it to you,” he said. You can’t see the other thoughts I’ve written beside this transcription.

Hunter gave him a weirded out look and gestured with his hand -- go on, then.

“Perocora maso va cora fedo coravadas.”

The old man frowned and his eyes stared blankly. Then, he turned on his heel and hiked a dozen feet up a hill.

The Travelling Arena, Jack hastily followed. Wonder how it looks and what it hides. Must be something incredible…

“Here.” Hunter stopped.

“This is the Arena?”

“No, you fool. This is where the second guide tablet walked to.”

There’s another one?

“So, I dig, you read, I write and then we go on to the Travelling Arena?”

“Once we get past six or seven of these.”

Both Jack’s curiosity and his eagerness took terrible blows. Six or seven of these?! he thought, sighing. Now I understand why you worried about time.

This’ll be a pain and a slog, especially with how long you take to figure out their text.

Well, you told me we shouldn’t do this, but I said why not.

We’ve started -- we can’t back out now.

Right, time to dig, he fell to his knees and started chipping away at the ground. He alterated between kicking and shoveling like a wild beast. A bit of ground trickled into his shoes and then whole chunks found their way in. So, Jack switched to using only his hands. The rough ground opened wounds on his fingers and palms. He groaned, but kept working. After a few more digs, he lowered his sleeves to cover his hands, but they barely helped with the pain.

Enough of the dirt cleared. He wiped the last thick layer to make the tablet readable and pointed.

“Can you make that out?”

“Sure, sure--” Hunter caught his tongue. “No, maybe I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?! Every damn line is perfectly readable!”

“Will you say the same once you’re fifty years older, huh? You left some dirt on it. And what does dirt do? It makes the words blurry. The instructions need to be clear so I can make every word out!”

Jack sighed and wiped the top of the tablet. Then, he snapped with his fingers. “What if I read and you write?”

“You don't understand the tongue of death and teaching you would take a week.”

“But I can make out the patterns in this mess of webs. If you understand what I mean when I say something like--” Jack eyed the tablet, “three headed snake, then we’re good and we’ll save time!”

Hunter took a moment to think. “Sure, sure… Go ahead then, I’ll write.” He took out his journal and a rusty pen.

Jack squinted then put his fingers against the cold tablet. “There’s this sharp squiggly line, a part where it looks like the word body, a square and a picture of a snake.”

Hunter grinned. “I never thought about those letters like that, but I got them,” he said and then read the words in the tongue of death.

Bit by bit, I’m getting the hang of this.

Maybe I’ll finally know my second language once I get out.

Jack followed Hunter down the hill and into a small pit. From behind, the Pathfinder stared at them, taking a step forward every minute. Jack frowned and tried ignoring the uneasiness that came from those eyes. You won’t attack -- your purpose is to help and to repent… Right?

“Here.”

Jack crouched and dug. He expected the dirt to give him a lot more wounds and engulf his arms in pain. Yet, he managed to only give himself a pair of scratches.

That’s not nice, but at least better than drowning in my own blood, he raised his hands in front of himself. They even started callusing. The pain will make me stronger in the end, he convinced himself and finished the dig.

Hunter walked to edge of the pit and gestured for Jack to read. Quickly.

“Fingers, snake, teeth, sharp line and musquito.”

“Alright.” Hunter extended a hand. “Walk five big steps forward, a dozen right and one back.”

“Understood, commander.” Jack saluted and strided, counting his steps.

These instruction tablets--and the Arena too--constantly travel to different places, right? he thought. Otherwise, Hunter wouldn’t need to read what’s written on them -- he could go straight to our destination.

Travelling Arena… The name kind of makes that clear, though.

The old man strolled back to the Pathfinder. He felt way less uncomfortable about the dead than Jack as he whispered something to it, tapped its shoulder and then made a quick bow before returning.

That’s... not suspicious one bit.

If you’re going to do that, at least make up some excuse, terrible or not. You talked to a damn dead -- that’s inherently weird.

This experience, working, Jack felt a weird deja vu, is just like digging a camp while Guardian judgmentally watched.

“Body, snake, another snake, hexagon and a circle.”

Jack jumped out of the pit.

Something exploded in the distance.

His hands reached for his dagger and his legs tried forming a wide stance though they ended up making him almost fall back into the hole. Last second, he managed to grab on to Hunter’s hand.

“Sure, sure… I’m not saying you’re slow, but you were eager for these weapons and now you’re digging like a dying slave,” Hunter said. “You heard that and I did too. The source of that sound is coming closer and we’ve gotta be way faster if we wanna get out alive.” He streaked towards the other tablet.

Jack let his urge do what it wanted and pushed Hunter with all of his strength. Hunter growled and flung a quick slap.

Jack crouched out of the way “We gotta be faster, right?” He grinned.

“Oh, we do, but not like that. This way won’t get us where we need to be -- it’ll only land a bullet to your face!”

Well, that’s a little hypocritical, Jack thought, this time holding back his tongue. You’re pushing me to dig a hole, but I can’t push your slow ass to walk faster?

Your transcription and limp are the things slowing us down.

But that doesn’t matter ‘cause we don’t need to be faster. We’ve got Holy Water and--I hope soon--we’ll have some sorcerous weapons.

Now we’re fine, but once we arrive, oh, nothing will be able to defeat us.

Nonetheless, Jack quickened his pace and gave the old man a series of judgemental looks if he dragged behind.

After a few minutes, Hunter stopped and kicked the ground. Jack dug the fourth hole.

The tablet that laid here was completely different from the others. It had a crimson outline, but no text.

“This one’s interesting,” Hunter smirked. “It’ll need your blood.”

“Like the--”

“Yes, now don’t waste our time -- just do it.”

Jack squeezed his battered hand. His dirty blood squirted on the tablet and dripped down to the crimson outline.

That outline started glowing and--after a minute--the tablet started shaking. Then, it levitated a foot up. Jack fell on his haunches in surprise. The thing flipped countless times, like a coin to settle a bet, lowered into its place and crumbled.

There was a black liquid under the rubble. And something white floated in that liquid.

Jack leaned forward. What?

A hand grabbed the back of his head and pushed him in. Before he could react, a voice shouted into his ear.

“Whatever you do, don’t close your eyes!”

Finally, Jack was able to be shocked. He flailed his arms and tried climbing out with the help of his legs. Half a minute passed and--because of his struggle--half the air bubbled out his lungs. He got himself together and tried thinking clearly.

What the hell are you doing, old man?!You’re going to kill me!

He tried one last push, but the arms drowning him were stronger than his own.

Jack stopped resisting and complied with the stream, looking forward into the depths of the black liquid. Floating among the grains of dirt and bubbles of air were two eyes.

Jack screamed at the sight, letting out more of his precious air. He felt dizzy, like if he was standing atop a mountain, and a weight came over his eyes. No! Stay focused and listen to what he said, he thought and fought what he felt. Whatever this thing is, I’ll make it out!

The eyes moved closer and their light made a rotten face visible. It touched Jack’s and gave him a light kiss. Then, the light started blinding him.

Jack couldn’t help, but scream again. Crimson filled the entirety of his vision and disgust started throwing the few contents of his stomach up his throat.

As his sight faded he felt… peaceful -- his body vibrated like... an insect’s?

The truth is here, isn’t it? Am I actually a bug? he thought. Was this all a mad dream on a mayflower?

The arms pulled him out and threw him away from the puddle.

All the thoughts left Jack’s head. He slapped a hand over his eyes--to fight the contrast between the intense redness and the faint darkness of the Underworld. He gave up trying to stand and fell on his back, gasping for air.

Oh, powers that be!

Hunter let him waste only a second -- he pushed him to his feet and slapped his cheek.

“Tell me!” he ordered.

“What?!”

“Where is it?!”

“Where is what?!”

“The next damn tablet!”

Jack took his hand off his face and adjusted to the levels of light. He stared sideways at Hunter for a moment before realizing: a force tugged on his arm. It was a different force from the Gunpowder of the Deal. He stretched his arm out and followed the odd sensation.

Another explosion sounded in the distance, farther this time.

Jack hesitated to move for a moment, anxious from the odd sound. Then, his legs broke into a run. This feeling’s fading quickly. I have to get to it right now or we’ll never reach it!

Hunter gasped, dragging a few feet behind, trying his best to catch up.

Suddenly, there was no ground under Jack’s feet.

He crashed into a small, but steep pit. His tongue fired swear after swear as clambered out of the hole.

The force stopped tugging on his hand.

Hunter ran up to Jack and took a deep breath. His old and smoked up lungs managed to handle the journey, but barely. He coughed and looked at Jack.

“It’s gone,” Jack said, waving. “I can’t feel it.”

“I know that you can’t,” Hunter pointed. “That’s because we’ve arrived.”

Jack looked at the finger then turned to where it pointed.

A slab of metal with six deteriorated legs was running laps around them.

***

Instinctive panic froze all his limbs, letting him only stare in fear.

Hunter’s brow rose as he looked at Jack. He waved a fist, growled and broke into a run. “Stop your open-eye nap and get that thing else you’ll never get to open those damn eyes of yours again!”

The order got to Jack in an instant. The daze left him and he sprinted after the tablet.

It’s legs could compare themselves in size to spoons and ran quickly, yet keeping to a simple pattern.

Forward, right, left, around in a circle, right and forward.

Hunter figured the pattern out at the same time as Jack and stopped where the tablet would go in a moment. He pointed and his face became a bit less frustrated.

Jack crept in behind the tablet.

Perfect.

The plate bumped into Hunter’s legs. Jack had been waiting for the moment and jumped. In the nick of time, the tablet dashed to the side. He fell on his face and got up surprised.

That thing’s smarter than most men on the battlefield! he scratched the back of his head.

Hunter growled through his teeth.

Oh, right, Jack turned, scanning for the thing.

The tablet had gained some distance and started digging a hole. As soon as it began, it finished, jumped in and buried itself under the dirt.

Jack reached it with wide eyes and, with hurting hands, dug it back up.

This tablet wasn’t like the one that almost drowned and made Jack mad. It was like the first one Jack came across, the only differences being its feisty little legs and text that shifted. Those symbols were changing every second and… producing tendrils of white smoke.

Hope that’s just like steam from the door of the Underworld, Jack thought, but couldn’t pay too much attention to the smoke -- he struggled to get the tablet out of the hole it dug itself into. Every single step I take deeper into this place, the more it creeps me out.

The smoke wrapped itself around Jack’s wrists. And it burned.

Scuttling back, he let out a quick grunt. Ah, my hopes were in vein… What?! He pulled his wrists, but they didn’t come free.

More tentacles wrapped around his arms as the previous ones tightened their grip.

Jack kept an agonizing scream behind his teeth as he focused all his force into freeing himself.

Hunter walked up to him and… instead of helping, stared without moving.

Jack’s anger was worse than the burning, yet instead of screaming, he put it all into pulling himself out. His hands broke free from the tendrils of smoke. In a moment of pure relief, he fell away from the tablet.

After that moment, the tablet jumped atop Jack and it’s terrifying legs started gnawing at him.

No, not again! he pushed it away and struggled to his feet, all in a second. Jack’s legs moved swiftly, dodging tendrils of smoke. He caught the right moment and kicked the thing. Get away from me!

The tablet crashed beside Hunter’s feet. The old man broke his statue-like stare and grabbed the thing, restraining its legs.

Jack gasped for air, still tense from the sight of the tablet, although the wrinkled hands that held it showed no signs of dropping it.

Hunter jerked his head at the tablet. “I’m not holding this thing any longer -- write what it says down!”

Jack’s battered hand took his yellowed paper and coal as he approached. He made out a few patterns then reluctantly leaned forward. Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to write these things down if they’re moving?!

“These--”

“The words aren’t always new -- they follow a pattern. Pick the most common ones out -- they’re the ones we need.”

Jack focused on each line of text on the shaking tablet. Triangle’s repeated once, twice, he started writing what he saw. Four times, five.

After a minute, he got to stand straight and say, “I got them all.”

The old man opened his mouth to speak.

“Hold on!” Jack raised his hand, backing off. “No matter what, don’t drop that thing! I’ll read everything to you!”“That’s what I planned, you fool.”

“Triangle, square, snake, ruby and a head.”

“Head?”

Jack turned the paper, hiding his personal thoughts, which he’d written in the corner, with his thumb. “What else can it be?”

Hunter’s face brightened. “Makes perfect sense now that you say it. Well, it’s time to reach the Travelling Arena. Excited, aren’t you?”

“Just... don’t drop that thing!”

“Well, there were two choices: either you carefully take it and bury or we drop and run for our lives, like the sensible men we are.”

“Alright, I’ll--”

The old man flashed a wide grin, dropped the tablet and sprinted away. The man’s speed amazed Jack. After the tablet balanced itself, it jumped after old man, but froze as it landed. Slowly, the tablet turned to Jack.

No, don’t you dare touch me again!

Hunter, you bastard, why did you have to do this?!

Jack bit his lip and jumped over the tablet, breaking into a run fueled by utter fear and phantom pain.

At least we’ll see the Travelling Arena faster.