Gun Girl from Another World

Chapter 50

Waterfall

I go over and pick up one of half a dozen orbs that clattered to the ground as the wisps perished. It's about the size of a softball, possesses an embery iridescence, and is ever so slightly warm to the touch.

"I can't believe you're already getting drops," Ayre pouts as the elf picks up another a distance away. "How are you so lucky?"

"We're getting drops," I correct my friend. "We're here as a team, we loot as a team."

"That doesn't answer my question."

I shrug. "Who knows? Heroes have a luck increase as part of the trait, but it doesn't say how much. As far as I know, nothing else will drop the entire trip!"

"If this is all we get, we'll still be ahead of most any other run in treasure. It could be due to how high the arcane energy is, too." Ayre casts a gaze around at the stone walls, barren but for their illuminating crystals. "I'm a bit worried all of our cramming for the plant list may be for nothing, though. Everything we were supposed to find looks like it's been replaced by these crystals."

"A last-ditch attempt by the dungeon to vent, maybe. It's clearly filling up too fast for it to handle." Identify tells me these are Spiritstones, suitable for enchantments. I don't need them, but if Ayre is right, they'll fetch a pretty penny. Or a pretty tin.

I open my bag and hold my hand out before all of the orbs glow and disappear inside of it.

Ayre stares down at his now-empty hands. "It sounds like you're saying this dungeon is in really bad shape."

"It sounds like that's what we're both saying," I agree, but stretch my arms above my head. "But the good news is, we can help it! And all we have to do is keep beating it up!"

I move toward the far end of the room but there are two exits. One looks like it goes down, and I think I can hear a waterfall from it, while the other appears to go upwards.

"Have you culled this dungeon before, Ayre?"

The elf gives a shake of the head. "This is my first time here, too."

"And I don't suppose the mission came with a map?"

"I wouldn't trust it if it did." Ayre crosses arms across the belly with a sigh. "Dungeons can change their layout over time, and who knows how fast one as erratic and overcharged as this one could do it. Do we just pick one?"

I think about it a little longer. "The first part was a steady descent. It would make sense if the goal was at the lowest level, wouldn't it?"

Ayre furrows his brows. "So it's the waterfall route?"

"No, it's the other route that leads to the boss."

The elf blinks in clear confusion. "But you said we had to go down."

"I said it would make sense to go down," I correct. "Back home, dungeons are full of dead ends, switch-backs and twists specifically to confuse your sense of direction, many of them deliberately looking like the way to go."

"So your reason for it not being the way to go is because it gives every indication of being the way to go?" Ayre struggles with the concept. "But what would design something like that?!"

I shrug again. "You said it, yourself. This place is erratic."

And then I start down the waterfall path.

"Wait, but you said that's not the way to go!"

"First rule of dungeon diving! Explore everywhere! It's the only way to get all of the loot!"

We start heading down the passageway, and I'm quickly vindicated, at least in my own head. The crystals we're associating with the dungeon's runaway energy crisis don't seem to be growing any more numerous in this direction, as I would expect to see as we get closer to wherever, and whatever, its core may be.

There's still plenty of them to put on a show when we reach the waterfall, and Ayre and I both pause in awe at the light reflecting off of the current as it splashes into the basin before us.

After a long moment of pious silence, a single thought manages to bubble up to the surface of my mind.

"Why does death have to be so beautiful?"

Ayre wheels on me like I spoke heresy. "Remmi! Why would you say something like that?!"

"That's what we're looking at, isn't it?" I counter, motioning toward the crystal-light. "This was probably supposed to be a glade full to bursting with those plants you wanted. Instead, it's a waterfall in a glowing crystal mine. And it's because the dungeon is in its death throes to an overflow of corrupted energy."

The elf gives a deep, slumping sigh, ears falling limp where they'd previously beat in agitation. "You don't have to ruin the moment by pointing it out." Still, Ayre rallies quickly and casts a more examining gaze across the chamber. "But you were right, it's definitely a dead end."

But my brain's going into RPG mode again, and I'm furrowing my brow in thought. "Yeah, too dead."

"Not again with the death speak!"

I shake my head. "No, I mean, there should be something here, even besides the missing glade. This is too short of a stop."

Ayre frowns back at me. "This is more of that makes too much sense talk, isn't it?"

"Yup!"

It's about that time that something catches my eye behind the cascading water, and I begin to move about to check different angles. It's only a moment before I see what I caught, and my face illuminates.

"Ah-ha! Vindicated again!" I point toward the waterfall. "Look, Ayre! There's an opening behind the water!"

That wrinkles Ayre's nose. "I wonder how many people have just turned away here."

And I start toward the basin. "Let's get a little wet and find out what they missed."

The water is absolutely frigid, and hammers down on us like a thousand pounds, but we push through, utterly drenched, into a passageway beyond. It looks carved out by the water, itself, and a stream of run-off from the basin burbles down its length. There's just enough damp stone on either side for a single person to stand on.

"You said a little wet," Ayre complains as we lean against the cold stone wall to catch our breath. "Maybe the reason why nobody came this way ... is because nobody wanted to catch their death ... of pneumonia ..." Even with breaks for breathing, Ayre needs a moment to refill the lungs after all of that talking. "And I swear my robe feels pasted to me ..."

"Don't be like that, Ayre ..." I reply just as winded. "I know girls back home ... who would kill for your figure ..."

"Shut up," he gasps, "and toss me one of those cleanse sprays ..."

Once we catch our breath, and with the Cleanse magic treating the water soaking us through to the bone as soiling, we start making our way carefully down opposite sides of the tunnel. It ends in another basin, this one with enough of a side for us to step around it, and a grotto only dimly illuminated by crystals.

"So we're definitely further away from the core," I muse, "and we're further down than we've been so far."

Ayre casts a simple Light spell, creating an orb that hovers overhead. I'd have done it, but we found out during training that the brightness of mine was too much for confined spaces.

"I still say it's just chance," the elf says. "Your logic for it makes no sense at all."

"Is that an adventurer's body?" I ask, moving toward the figure revealed by the light.

"If so, he's long dead," Ayre concurs.

The figure is wearing rusted armor, but the body is suspiciously dry. Still gripped in the decayed hand is a pristine sword, and nearby is a similarly intact backpack.

I move over to the latter and bend down to it. "Maybe there's some identification."

"It'll be the only way to tell who he was," Ayre answers back, bending over the body. "He's been beheaded."

But the moment I open the flap on the backpack, a man's head topples it over and rolls out onto the ground.

I won't lie, I'd like to say I yelp, but that isn't really what comes out of my mouth.

"Remmi?!"

"I'm fine!" I take a moment to catch my breath. "I found his head ... What kind of sick fuck takes the time to put his head into the guy's pack?!"

The head hardly settles before it starts to rattle again. It starts rocking back and forth, subtly at first, but more and more as if trying to build up momentum, angling toward ...

My head spins toward Ayre. "Get away from the body! Get away from it now!"

I grab for the head, only to jerk away again as it bursts into flames, and Ayre jumps back from the body just as the skull takes off for it.

The body jerks and jumps up as the now-burning skull hovers above the neck, rattling in silent laughter.

"Great, more undead."

I go to draw my pistol, but Ayre holds a hand out toward me. "Please, Remmi! Go easy on your bolts! It's so painful in an enclosed space when you rattle them off!"

I nod to my friend as I pull the weapon out. "Alright, I'll be relying on you for support, then. Let's take him together!"

As if in objection to us daring to take it lightly, the body roars as the flames around the skull surge brighter. The blade in its hands ignites in the same soulfire as the skull, and it gives a couple heavy swings to remind us to keep our distance.

Too bad for him, that's all we do.

Ayre opens first with a couple Spiral Shots that punch halfway through the ruined armor. The body staggers, but turns toward the elf.

I rush in and jab the barrel of my gun into his thigh. Bam, bam, the holy rounds go off and the corpse collapses to a knee, but takes a swipe at me, anyway, forcing me to jump back again.

I'm mistaken in thinking I crippled it, however. The skull gives its rattling, silent cackle as it hauls its body back up again.

That's when it dawns on me.

"Ayre, the body's just a puppet! We're wasting our attacks on it! Aim for the skull!"

Ayre gasps, too. "That's right! Aim for the glowing part!"

I grin, and we raise our weapons again. I fire three holy rounds into the skull, and Ayre pumps another two Spiral Shot arrows into it from the other side.

It's like sticking a pot between two wrecking balls. The skull shatters and the body instantly collapses again, the sword extinguishing and clinking to the cavern floor.

I give a thoughtful swipe of nonexistent sweat from my forehead with my offhand. "Darn, I should have Identified him! Now we have no idea what level he was!"

Ayre moves to collect what arrows didn't break. "I'm more worried that this dungeon seems to be turning into an undead theme."

I give a thoughtful hum at that. "Like the rats."

Ayre nods in agreement. "I hope they aren't connected."

"As if we're that lucky." I pause. "No, scratch that. That would be lucky, because we'd only be tracking down one source of corruption."

That makes Ayre pause, too, then the elf nods. "I take it back, I hope they are, too."

Identify says that the backpack is a Stasis Bag, stopping time and magical timers on anything put inside. Basically, it's a lesser version of what my storage space gives me, since it's still limited to the bag's dimensions. Still, Ayre can get use out of it, or we can sell it when we get out of here. For now, the archer shoulders it.

The sword, on the other hand, is a Manaburn Katana. It channels the wielder's mana to power flames of proportional strength. Useless again to the both of us, but definitely worth tin back in Dabun.

Before then, though, it'll serve as a nice source of heat to warm up and dry off next to after we pass through the waterfall again ...