Chapter Ten: Unseen Below

The tunnel was narrower than I liked.

I followed Sorayelle, stepping gingerly between crystal outcroppings that pulsed with a soft, blue-golden glow.

The walls themselves shimmered in places like thin sheets of mica, almost translucent, as if the entire cavern had been grown rather than carved.

I kept close behind her. Gwynn, ever silent, padded at my side, her strange and beautiful, feline form making barely a sound.

I hadn't found a shirt.

Or pants. Or boots. Or anything, really.

The Skulkers didn't exactly wear anything--so I wasn't too surprised that their loot orbs didn't have any of that to find.

What I had found, though, was something called a [Light-Armor Pattern: Monsterhide Armor].

I recalled the item description from before--and how disappointed I'd been upon reading it. How my elation had quickly dropped into being frustration.

>>

Light-Armor Pattern: Monsterhide Armor.

This crafting pattern can be deciphered to learn how to craft Monsterhide Armor.

Rarity: Rare

Requirements: Leatherworking - Journeyman

>>

It had shimmered into existence on the second-to-last Skulker's loot list. Promising and enticing at first. And completely useless to me at the moment.

I didn't have a single point in Leatherworking. And based on how steep the cost curve for proficiencies were, there was no way I was going to invest enough to get to Journeyman tier.

I couldn't risk weakening my future combat skills that much right now.

Still, it made me think. The System didn't just expect to create fighters.

If all armor and weapons were made with similar crafting patterns... then there had to be entire support paths built into it. Smiths, tailors, alchemists.

This world had been meant to work like a game—a brutal one, yeah, but a System with more than just combat. Like an MMO.

I reluctantly let the thought go as I refocused on Sorayelle, who was trudging ahead. She looked as lost in thought as I had been, her redish hair dimly catching the crystal light.

"How many of your people live in Daruvasht?" I asked softly.

She flinched at my voice, then looked back. "Just my Great House. And a few of the lesser ones. We were all that remained after the upper cities fell. Or all that made it out, I guess."

I frowned. "Is it so few?"

"My grandmother was a Radiance and Earth mage," she said. "Journeyman-tier. She wasn't one of the Soravahn, but she helped carve out these tunnels and keep the monsters at bay. There were others, too. Other elders with a System. We made a home, or something close to one."

"The Soravahn," I said. "What were they?"

Sorayelle's pace slowed as she carefully chose a tunnel turn. "Warriors. Heroes. The ones who reached the highest levels after Integration. The System gave them rewards, strength. Titles."

"And?" I asked, though I already felt the answer coming.

"They died. Before I was born," she said, quieter. "They tried to stop what was coming. The dungeons started opening too fast. Too many. They were spread too thin."

"Overwhelmed and killed," I murmured.

She nodded. "Some. But most of them... they gathered at the end. They tried to challenge Cowagen directly. One last stand."

The name sent a chill down my spine.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Did they all die?"

"Most," she said. "But not the Empress. She was our leader—not the strongest, but the most beloved. The kindest and wisest, and the most beautiful. Cowagen turned her into something else... some kind of sick point he was trying to make."

I felt my heart lurch. "Yeah, you said he changed her. Into the Southern Ruler?"

Sorayelle nodded again. "Into something... wrong. Something that hunts her own people."

I hesitated, then said, "Are you okay?"

"It was long before I was born," she replied, her voice distant. "I just... sometimes wish I had been there. Like I could have changed something. Even if that's arrogant."

"I get it," I said.

She looked at me for a beat, then I asked. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Only eighty," she said.

I blinked. "Sorry?"

"Eighty," she repeated, clearly confused by my own confusion. "You act so strange for a Caliban. Aren't you at least a hundred?"

I shook my head. "How... how long do Caliban live?"

She tilted her head. "Usually up to five hundred years. Sometimes longer, but the aging gets less graceful after that."

I gulped. There was no way. No way the System had just extended my lifespan by centuries by chance alone.

I wasn't even sure I wanted to live that long.

"How old is your grandmother?"

"Four hundred," Sorayelle said. "And the other elders are aging fast. Without any System users left, the city will fall eventually. All it'll take is one monster wandering too far."

That hit me harder than I expected. The weight of it all. I wasn't just some girl in a dungeon anymore. This wasn't just about fighting monsters. The System had tied my survival to saving an entire race. And if actual Caliban heroes had failed...

What could I do?

"You have advantages most didn't," Gwynn murmured beside me.

I glanced at her, startled. Right. She could basically read my mind--or at least my emotions.

And the, smart as hell, panther could follow the conversation causing them. Well enough to make guesses as to my exact thoughts--accurate ones.

Still... she wasn't wrong.

If the Soravahn had shared World's Firsts bonuses between them, then maybe none of them ever stacked the System's benefits too far. But I was different. I was alone, and in a time-slowed dungeon. Which meant...

I was collecting all the rewards for my planet myself.

That was good for me. Maybe less so for Earth. Especially if I died on another world's corpse.

If I did, would Earth become like Caliban? Would it fall?

"Thanks Gwynn," I said to the panther, reaching out to stroke her head as we walked, and then looked back to Sorayelle. "How long ago did Cowagen take the WorldHeart?"

"Two hundred years," Sorayelle said. "He's drained it. Cracked the world apart."

Two centuries of slow death. Of waiting to become monsters or food for them... fuck.

I was about to ask what a WorldHeart really was, when--

"How can you use the System?" she asked suddenly.

I paused. I figured I might as well tell her...

"I'm not from Caliban," I said. "I died on another world. Earth. And the System reincarnated me."

She stopped cold. Turned.

"You... you came from a world with the System? One that was still alive, or?"

"It was just starting when I died."

Her face went pale.

"But you're Caliban now," she said, voice shaky. "So you want to help your people, right?"

I hesitated. "I don't know what I am. I've only been like this for a day or two. I don't even know what I look like. But the System says I can only leave if I defeat Cowagen. So yeah. I guess that means freeing your people..."

She looked stunned. Speechless.

"Do you think you can?" she whispered.

"I don't know."

And I didn't.

Sorayelle bit her lip. Then, slowly, she unshouldered her satchel and pulled out a small hand mirror. Its surface shimmered, framed in silver and delicate spirals.

"It belonged to my grandmother," she said, holding it out. "From when we still made things like this."

I took it carefully. And I saw myself.

My breath caught.

I was... beautiful. Not in a shallow way. But in a haunting, ethereal way. Silver, pupil-less eyes. Elongated ears. Black, wavy, thick and perfect hair.

Too good.

I wasn't human anymore... in more ways than one.

But... then my features were familiar, echoes of my human face, but refined. Smoothed. Better. Edged with the characteristics of a whole other species, but still my own.

I bit my lip. Tears welled up. I still looked like me. At least a little.

"See? You really are Caliban now," Sorayelle said softly. "I'm sorry you died. Sorry you were sent here. But for what it's worth... I think you're beautiful. Like, really beautiful. And maybe... maybe you're the first hope we've had in a long time."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to hand the mirror back. "Thank you. I mean it."

"You can keep it."

I paused. "I can't."

"You should," she said. "I want you to. To remind you that you're one of us now."

I nodded. Stored it in my inventory, but not before admiring how pretty it was first one last time.

Then, we moved forward again for a while. Through the strange otherworldly caves, guided just by the crystal light and our strangely perceptive calibani eyes.

Until Sorayelle stopped suddenly. Just as the tunnels opened up into a large cavern.

"What is it?" I asked.

Gwynn growled. She stepped forward in front of our guide, as if moving to protect her.

I did the same.

Sorayelle pointed. "Something's up ahead. That crevice--it shouldn't be there. These tunnels are usually the safer ones... but that's a Crawler."

I looked.

Sure enough, a shadow moved.

Then a click.

Then another.

And then I saw it. The glint of chitin. A massive leg curled from the ceiling crevice, jointed and sharp. Armored legs, spidery and glistening.

Spider.

Big one.

Because of course it was.

And more clicking and rock-scraping soon joined in from adjacent tunnels.

"Oh," I whispered. "Great."