Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Quest-Spamming NPC (3)
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‘The timing of when the Saint’s Sword is discovered varied every playthrough.’
The Saint’s Sword was an item that chose its own wielder.
From a player’s perspective, it was a somewhat absurd system.
That was because NPCs sometimes became its owner.
‘And different ones every time.’
It was also an item that revealed how the NPCs’ actions and routes weren’t fixed.
If they moved according to a set pattern, the owner wouldn’t change each time, right?
‘I didn’t research this game for nothing all those years.’
Every time the game restarted, those fine details shifted just a little.
That was one reason Regin’s analysis and research had taken so long.
“Do you think we have a shot if we head out right now?”
“Yes. Actually, during the last expedition, I talked it over with Chimihi.”
“Really?”
“Back then, you gave the fragment to that swordsman named Bern instead. And you wanted me to party up with him.”
“Kukuku. So you caught Chimihi’s eye even back then?”
“I think she thought pretty well of me.”
“Hmm. Anyway, to sum it up, there are competitors on the 6th Floor right now, including that Bern fellow?”
“Yes.”
“We might be a bit late to the party.”
I nodded.
It wasn’t like you could just find it by searching, but those who got there first definitely had the advantage.
‘But if that alone decided the owner... I wouldn’t have bothered researching it.’
There had been a time when the Saint’s Sword caught my eye.
If you got it early on, it was one of the solid-performing items.
It even showed cheat-level prowess in certain sections.
‘In the end, I shelved my research because... you ultimately needed luck to obtain it.’
“...You need luck?”
“As far as I know, yes. I heard the Saint’s Sword appears before its chosen one at completely random odds.”
“...I don’t quite get the exact mechanics?”
“The Saint’s Sword is an item that drifts through space endlessly. Whether it reveals itself at the same time or not is up to its whim.”
“So it has an ego?”
“Probably.”
It didn’t have a full-fledged ego, but it was similar.
“I don’t fully understand the details... but we should hurry. If luck’s on our side, we can snag it too.”
“Exactly.”
Greg knew Regin was a mage with vast knowledge.
He thought him extraordinary, too.
“If that’s your call, then we’d better gear up.”
Greg stood, packing his things.
“Let’s head up. To the 6th Floor’s Skull Citadel.”
* * *
“You said you’ve studied the 6th Floor a bit?”
Dusk was falling.
Greg and Regin had left the camp without delay.
Kkiriik—
Greg uncorked a bottle and offered it to Regin. Come to think of it, he’d always had booze on him since they first met.
“I’m good. Did you buy that fresh from the camp tavern?”
“Yeah. Gotta have just the right kick of alcohol to make exploring fun. Gets the blood pumping, you know.”
“Please don’t overdo it. You’ve been there—you know wraiths show up on the 6th Floor.”
“Kukuku. You really do your homework.”
Greg nodded, chugging his beer.
“Skull Citadel. The name says it all, but it’s crawling with undead like skeletons. Wraiths too. Ah, of course, they’re way weaker than the ones on the 8th Floor.”
The 6th Floor was where soul monsters called wraiths lurked.
They used mental attacks, so being drunk would put you at a disadvantage.
‘...He’s not gonna get blackout wasted, is he?’
Back in the rabbit warren, Greg had run out of his booze stash, so I’d only seen him sober.
This was the first time tackling a floor with him in his usual state.
Given the 6th Floor’s nature, I couldn’t help worrying about him getting sloshed.
“Regin.”
“Yes.”
“The hardest thing for a drunk to believe another drunk saying... is ‘I’m not like other drunks.’”
“...Haha. True enough.”
“But I really am different. Booze won’t affect my fighting.”
A hollow laugh escaped at the contradictory words.
Drunks always claim they’re not like the rest, that they’re in their right mind.
How can you trust someone saying the exact same thing?
‘Maybe he’s got a unique constitution.’
But I couldn’t overlook that this was DAT.
This world had every race imaginable, every trait under the sun.
Like ‘poison immunity’ that nullified toxins.
Or ‘immune’ traits against specific elements.
‘There’s even traits that boost strength only while poisoned. Pretty diverse compared to other games.’
Even Boland, the musclebound spellcrafter from the association, had a unique constitution.
‘Greg could easily have one too. Or maybe he got it from some incident.’
Unless he volunteered the info, asking outright would be rude.
Regin just filed it away for potential scenarios, holding back further questions.
“No matter how much you’ve studied the 6th Floor, it’s your first time there, so mind if I fill in a few blanks?”
“Of course.”
Greg continued, still sipping.
“If the 5th Floor is the castle walls, the 6th is the space inside them. A citadel, basically.”
“...”
“Totally different concept from Floors 1 through 4.”
“Totally different?”
“Yeah. What were Floors 1 to 4 like? Time was frozen, right?”
“Yes.”
Floors 1 through 4.
From dawn forest to evening woods—they were fixed-time stages.
But 5 through 9 were different.
“Floors 5 to 9 are classified by space.”
If 1 through 4 were divided by time.
From here on, it was by space.
“The Skull Castle is made up of the castle’s various parts as floors. 5th is the walls. 6th and 7th are the citadel...”
“8th is the castle interior. 9th is the king’s chamber. Right?”
“Spot on.”
I’d asked just in case, but it matched what I’d pieced together from DAT.
‘Still, better not assume. There could be differences from the game.’
I had to think back to breaking through Floor 1 with Manannan.
I’d assumed escape portals existed on 1 through 4.
But in reality, they started from 5.
The game could differ in any number of ways. Regin kept an open mind, listening closely to Greg.
“The real threats are the ‘gimmicks.’”
“Gimmicks?”
“Yeah. Some mechanisms are as dangerous as the monsters. Touch the wrong one, and you’re bleeding.”
“Ah.”
“With it being a citadel, they’ve got defenses against outsiders, right?”
Explorers speculated the Skull Castle was a single ancient fortress.
So the gimmicks and monsters were seen as remnants of its past inhabitants and their traps.
‘It’s not wrong, but...’
Regin recalled what came after, a wry smile crossing his face.
“Who knows.”
“Hm?”
“Maybe it’s not to keep outsiders out. Maybe to keep something inside from getting out.”
“...Haha! First time I’ve heard speculation like that in my life.”
“Just a thought. Don’t take it to heart.”
“Kukuku. Sure. Traps to keep something from escaping inside...?”
Greg seemed struck by the idea but soon shook his head.
“Well... they say you learn the truth of all these floors at the tower’s end. We’ll know for sure then.”
“Right.”
You learn at the tower’s end.
It was a saying passed among explorers.
Regin personally believed it wasn’t nonsense.
He’d actually reached the tower’s end, after all.
“Anyway, gimmicks are usually disarmed by sensitive assassins.”
Jangle—!
Greg pulled a leather case from his bag.
It held all sorts of keys and tools.
“In my case, I use custom-made keys and tools to handle traps.”
“...That’s impressive.”
I meant it.
You’d probably need an assassin to properly navigate the 6th Floor.
With this, we might not need anyone else.
“We’re here.”
He was even good at finding paths. Following his shortcut, they quickly reached the 5th Floor’s edge.
The transfer magic stone to the 6th Floor glowed before them.
Wooong—!
“Let’s go find it. The Saint’s Sword.”
“Yes.”
Activating the stone created a portal.
The two stepped inside.
‘In the DAT lore, whoever wields the Saint’s Sword... is said to lead a new era.’
He knew others had gone ahead for it. But Regin’s eyes burned with confidence.
‘If it’s gonna happen... better if I’m the one leading.’
It’d be easier for Regin.
And for everyone who had to survive in this world.
Convinced that was best, Regin headed to the 6th Floor.
* * *
“This is...”
“The Skull Citadel.”
Unlike the outer walls, the inner structures now came into view.
The walls and buildings forming the castle.
‘...As expected, seeing it in person, the scale is insane.’
Even in-game, it felt massive.
Here, the full scope hit home.
‘About the size of a village.’
As a former citadel city by lore, houses dotted the area.
Far off loomed a massive castle.
That was the 8th Floor. They’d portal in later.
Grrrk—
“Regin.”
“Yes.”
They barely had time to take in the vast citadel interior.
Regin and Greg entered combat stance right away.
‘These are the most common around here.’
Skeleton soldiers began gathering.
Bones clattered from all directions.
Whish!
The skeletons swung rusted swords at Regin and Greg.
Honestly, not very threatening.
Greg dodged lightly, eyeing them.
“...Poor bastards.”
Greg saw them as souls cursed to move without dying.
To explorers, this castle was an ancient ruin.
Born of some witch’s curse or similar, so not entirely wrong.
“Better put ’em down quick. Regin, I’ll clear the path ahead.”
“I’ll cover from behind.”
“...Hup!”
Kwachik!
Greg charged forward, swinging his axe.
As he blazed the trail, Regin pierced the remaining skeletons’ skulls with Magic Arrows.
Skeletons’ common weak point: the head.
Shatter it, and they drop.
Kwachik!
Greg massacred skeleton soldiers, pressing on.
Pure combat power-wise, goblins outclassed these skeletons.
‘Still, can’t let my guard down.’
The soldiers themselves weren’t a huge threat...
Sruk—
But ones mixed among them were.
“...Regin!”
“Yes.”
“Prioritize the staff-wielders!”
Skeleton Mages.
Slow-moving, low-HP—seemed easy at a glance. But their specialty was magic.
Lightning bolts from above, specifically.
Paht!
Regin tore a scroll, Magic Arrows spearing their skulls.
‘Best to take them out before lightning drops.’
Even for Greg, a skeleton mage’s spell could be lethal.
Armor wouldn’t block it.
“Regin.”
“Yes.”
“If you spot magic orbs from the mages, grab ’em quick.”
The skeleton mages went down fast.
Greg scanned their corpses as he continued.
“Plenty of parties hunt 6th Floor for what these skeleton mages drop.”
His gaze swept the citadel, alert.
“A spot ripe for clashes with other folks.”
Greg was wary of worse than monsters or gimmicks.
Rival explorers.
The biggest wildcard for any explorer... was always people.