Chapter 16: Mileth Crypt [3]

The two traveled to Mileth Crypt. A crowd, divided into two groups, noisily shouted at each other. The sudden appearance of an anomaly spurred the interest of everyone here. Wizards, warriors, priests, archers, and rogues all gathered around the big rock. The more agile paths wore very light clothing, in contrast to the warriors here who were covered from head-to-toe with apparels from the armor shop.

Voices ran back and forth, arguing about who goes in first.

The divided parties each had a representative that stood at the very front of their respective groups. A dashingly handsome warrior, with a streak of short, red hair that complimented his natural brown, had a lion insignia attached to his armor. A claidhmore laid in its sheathe attached to the young man’s waist. The man he was opposing wore a stern face at all times with the insignia of a shield attached to his armor. True to his insignia the only weapon that could be seen was a shield. But this particular shield reached half of the man’s height, and of all the people around him, he was the tallest.

“What’s going on?” Morr asked.

Priscilla shrugged. “I don’t know, but they’re really into it.”

They shrinked themselves as much as possible to pass the crowd, but upon stepping one foot into the crypt, they were immediately stopped.

“Hey! You two!” The man wearing the shield insignia shouted. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To kill stuff. Need money.” Morr answered.

“Don’t go in there. A dangerous monster has appeared and it is abnormally strong. Go hunt in East Woodland for now, or someplace easier.” He suggested.

“Going there would take more time than just hunting here. I don’t got time for that.” Morr said.

“Listen to Harrock. This place has gotten dangerous, and it's better if you just go somewhere for the time being.” The man wearing the lion insignia warned.

“Oh. Thanks for the warning.” Morr proceeded into the crypt again.

“Stop! You’ll just die!” Harrock barked.

“If those two wants to die, then let them. We warned them like good citizens, so who cares what they do afterwards.” The lion-insignia-man coldly said.

“Screw off, Gratt.” Harrock said.

“Wait!” A warrior from Harrock’s group stepped forth and shouted. “It’s you!”

Morr turned around and saw a slightly familiar face. He didn’t realize who that warrior was at first, but then it became clearer the closer he approached. The face the warrior wore right now, and the face he wore from that time was entirely different.

“Oh, it’s you.” Morr said.

“Did… he survived? The wizard, I mean.” The warrior whispered.

“No.” Morr answered. “I saw him die before I left the 5th floor.”

“Oh... Thanks… I needed to know.” The warrior dispiritedly said.

“Do you know this fellow?” Harrock asked the dispirited warrior.

“He was someone I saw when we escaped the 5th floor.” The warrior reported. “It seems that it's really my fault that Corish died.”

“Don’t get so down. We’re about to kick its ass and let him rest in peace.” Harrock encouraged the dispirited warrior.

“Thanks…” The warrior sighed.

“Hold up,” Gratts intervened, “me and my party will be the one to defeat it. Once I pick out a suitable mage and priest, then this monster can be considered as good as dead.”

“This warrior specifically came to the Aegis’ guild, specifically requesting that we defeat it.” Harrock said. “We’ll be the one to defeat it.”

“Oh come on, he posted the information on a public board. It’s fair game.” Gratt said.

“Maybe he did that from the adrenaline rush after he escaped the 5th floor. Who knows -- but what I do know is that he requested for our guild and it’s still on-going. I came as representative and I will be the one to lead us to victory.” Harrock proudly said.

“You can’t just hog it all because someone asked you to. Utterly ridiculous.” Gratt argued.

“Why are we still here?” Priscilla asked.

“Didn’t you want to meet new people and see different faces?” Morr asked.

“I can do that anytime, thanks to Dr. Mav.” Priscilla said. “For now, I just want to move my body.”

“Then let’s go.” Morr and Priscilla went inside.

Upon seeing Morr walking into the crypt, Harrock shouted, “Move it! We can’t let another man die today!”

Gratt, upon hearing Harrock’s shout, shouted, “Come! Follow me if you still want a split of the loot! I’ll pick out my party members as we walk!”

Unsurprisingly, not many people followed after him. The majority of Gratt’s group, who had interest in the loot, left upon seeing the company of followers behind Harrock. Anyone still hoping to partake in the loot or curious to see the scorpion dwelling on the 5th floor followed him.

And so, the three different parties stormed the first floor of Mileth Crypt. Adventurers who practically lived on the first floor saw an enormous amount of adventurers marching in. Walls shook, the ground trembled, and the loudest sound that dominated the area was the beat of a disjointed army. Gratt and Harrock were locked in an unspoken race -- they constantly tried to outwalk each other while maintaining a brisk pace and the composure of a leader. Everyone stood clear of the main path, and the monsters all scrambled and hid in any hole they could find.

“What are they here for?” A bystander asked.

“Please don’t camp these monsters.” A swordsman prayed.

The second and third floor were no different either. Just seeing and hearing those loud steps drew the attention of every hunter. The monsters who were foolish enough to attack these adventurers were met with the forces of tens of sword swings, large areas of flying arrows, or lethal spells.

After nonstop walking, they were now on the fourth floor and the tension grew even stronger. Those who didn’t think much of it were now beginning to worry about their life. Information gathering is one of the most important procedure an adventurer should do to ensure as high of a survival rate as possible. Knowing how a monster attacks, what they tend to do, and where they are found -- these types of information allows an adventurer to plan accordingly. Everyone stopped at the entrance of the 5th floor when the four people in front of them stood in place.

“Let’s rest for a bit.” Harrock suggested in a forceful manner.

Harrock beckoned towards a light-armored rogue. After a quick whisper, the rogue departed for the 5th floor in light steps.

“Must be nice to have minions to do your bidding.” Gratt commented.

“Hey, how far did you go since we last hunt?” Priscilla asked.

“The 5th floor.” Morr answered.

“You must’ve had some bad luck.” Harrock said. “The 5th floor was thought to be a resting area. For awhile, at least. The more we walk and see, the more amazing this place gets, doesn’t it?”

“Reaching senile in your early 40s, already?” Gratt snickered. “This place was never a resting zone. People just got complacent since the last appearance.”

“Resting zone? What are you two talking about?” Morr asked.

“Was that your first time entering the 5th floor?” Harrock rhetorically asked. “It must be, if you don’t think of it that way. Mileth’s Crypt 5th floor had been vacant for two years since the last appearance of something similar to the reported scorpion. An abnormal.”

“If something so rare occurs, wouldn’t everyone from all around the continent come and kill it?” Priscilla asked.

“No… only those who are foolish enough would do something like that.” Morr commented. “They are risking their lives, after all.”

“Right. We’re a big bunch of fools.” Harrock nodded.

“I see we think alike, pretty lady.” Gratt said. “But there is a Code of Honor that many adventurers follow. In this case, only adventurers 10 levels above and below will be hunting this monster if they stay true to the ethics.”

Hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance of the 5th hallway. They pounded on the ground, rushing to their destinations without a worry about discreetness. The rogue from before appeared and quickly whispered to Harrock.

“What?!” Harrock exclaimed.

“What is it?” Gratt asked.

Everyone’s eyes fell upon the man who had the grimmest face of them all.

“There isn’t a scorpion…” Harrock said with his voice devoid of all of its energy from before.

“Huh? There’s none?” Priscilla worriedly asked.

“That’s it? Why are you being so overdramatic?” Gratt asked. “If it’s not there then at least there’s nothing to worry about--”

“No… you don’t get it.” Harrock gulped. “The scorpion isn’t there, but what is there is a… marauder… and 4 parties of 5 trapped on the 6th floor..."

Those who knew the word ‘marauder,’ and what Harrock was referring to, all suddenly looked at each other without an ounce of blood in their body. Their stiff, frozen bodies could only turn their heads, for they dare not to take another step. Those who didn’t know what a marauder was, like Morr and Priscilla, looked around, confused, as to what the hell was going on.

Gratt felt the tension thicken to the point that it was suffocating to just stand in place. He looked around and knew the stances on most of these adventurers just by looking at them frighten faces. A sense of danger wafted into his nose from the prideful man accompanied by an enormous shield. This smell was incredibly similar to that of a rat that was stuck in between two doors: a door that leads to an escape, or a door that leads to a deathtrap filled with delicious cheese.

A few minutes had passed since Harrock heard of the news. It was a few minutes, but the immediate crisis that loomed ahead of them ticked the clock faster. To go forth would be suicidal, given his judgement on all of the adventurers here. To go back would bring a huge shame to the Aegis’ guild name. Dying in battle was something he and the guild believed to be worth dying for, at the very least if they save a life. However, when he is a mere few feet away from Death’s pet, it was an entirely different story. Hiding behind his shield when victory is almost-to-certain guaranteed is a whole different feeling from hiding behind his shield when death is guaranteed, no questions asked. Different ways to die and finding ways to escape whilst maintaining the guild’s reputation was all he could think of.

Harrock gulped and shouted, “Men, today--”

“…10! …15! …25!” Gratt suddenly shouted numbers with a voice that overpowered Harrock’s. “We have 25 people right now! At this very moment!”

“W-what are you saying?” Harrock stared at the man interrupting him.

“We have 25 people right now. There are 20 people on the 6th floor from what that rogue told us. We leave right now and we’ll save 25 lives.” Gratt firmly said, but the look of despair couldn’t be washed away.

“You fool!” Harrock shouted “How can you abandon--”

“SHUT UP!” Gratt fired back. “Learn to know when to quit. We leave now, we lose our reputation. We go in there, and our lives is what we’re gambling with! Wake up!”

Harrock shook his head of all the negative thoughts he held. “…You have a point. Our reputation may be tarnish, but we can always build it up if we live.”

Morr clutched his fist and grit his teeth.

The adventurers that followed them breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing the two come to an agreement.

“Men,” Harrock spiritedly shouted, “We will return to--“

“Wait.” Morr interrupted. “You’re going to leave them there? I don’t know anything about a marauder, but this is TWENTY people we’re talking about.”

“You said it yourself, kid.” Harrock looked at the boy with intense anger in his eyes. “You don’t know anything about the marauders. Come with us, I’ll accept all the blame for this failure.”

“No. You’re pathetic, all of you.” Morr said in a twisted, demeaning tone.

“What’s gotten into you?” Priscilla worriedly asked.

“Hey!” Gratt barked. “Say whatever the hell you want, we’ve decided already.”

“You’re leaving them to DIE!” Morr shouted.

“They’re already dead.” Gratt said, and then turned to Harrock. “Let’s leave them.”

“You have swords, shields, and magic… turn back and fight!” Morr exclaimed.

“Ignore him.” Gratt said as he waved the two goodbye.

“Pathetic… PATHETIC!” Morr stomped his feet as he descended to the next floor.

“Wait!” Priscilla quickly chased after him.

The temporary party sliced into two, one returning to the surface and the other descending to the 5th floor.

“Wait! I said wait!” Priscilla grabbed him by his cape. “What’s gotten into you?! Calm down for a moment.”

“Didn’t you hear them? They wanted to abandon these people.” Morr quietly said, but the anger seeped through his voice.

“Who cares?” Priscilla asked. “We can--“

Morr shot her a furious glance of pure ferocity and rejection. “Let go.”

Those eyes buried themselves deep within her chest. She had never seen someone who can show so much emotion with just their eyes. It fascinated her, and at the same time, caused her to be wary of the words coming out of her mouth.

“You’ve already killed so many people… didn’t you?” Priscilla cautiously asked. “I mean; we were both stuck in that place… me, you, and Pontiff -- we had to kill to survive.”

“We were both stuck in that hellhole, so why the hell can’t you understand?!” Morr slammed his fist into the wall.

“I… I… don’t know…” Priscilla muttered. “I don’t understand why you want to save them so badly.”

“Forget it.” Morr forcefully pulled on his cape, causing it to slip away from Priscilla’s soft fingers. “I will do it by myself. I will do everything by myself.”

Priscilla held her clutched hands to her heart. She refused to chase him. At least not without finding an answer for him, first. His figure, and soon his shadow, left her alone in the stairs between the 4th and 5th floors.

“I just don’t get it.” She murmured. “You’re already free and out of danger… so why are you looking for more?”