“Weapons,” Uundref said. “The greatest invention of all intelligent life. As nimrods, you’re in charge of your own weapons. Break a sword, buy a new one. The blacksmiths are always eager to take your ether.”

The Steward led the slaves to one of the larger shops on the hub. A weapon display rack covered the stall’s back wall entirely—of course protected by hefty steel bars. The weapons ranged anywhere from wooden clubs to blades and maces. Everything had a price tag attached. The wooden club was the cheapest, selling for ten ether. Regular longswords sold for anything between thirty to a hundred ether. The most expensive purchase was a black greatsword—possibly the heaviest and bulkiest weapon Vivi had ever seen. It sold for five hundred ether.

So expensive… Vivi thought. Everything was over double the price here compared to the surface.

Most weapons on display were colored gray and forged with ordinary steel. More exotic metals lined the upper shelves, ranging from low tier mithrils to ensium. The expensive greatsword was forged from black asmite—a ridiculously heavy metal that was arduous to work with.

The weapons were all ordinary. Nothing was powered by runes. Vivi hadn’t spotted a single shop that had anything to do with runesmithing.

Why? Runeswords were considered out-dated by humanity, but ordinary steel swords were even more primitive, used only by farmers protecting their turf from thugs. Steel blades were just that: steel. They could not be strengthened with ether for special powers. When fighting tough monsters, the ability to strengthen one’s weapon with ether was almost essential.

“What you can afford is nothing special,” Uundref said. “But then again, none of you are anything special. Everyone must start somewhere. You may start with your fists if you prefer to save ether.

“The upper level of the dungeon is full of mostly skeletons and ghouls. No ether sticks, unfortunately, but easy monsters nonetheless. A club will deal with skeletons just fine, so long as you’re strong enough, but better equipment is necessary the moment you wish to fight anything that drops more than a single wisp of ether.”

The others examined the weapons, then lined up to make purchases. Most of the demons were reluctant to spend their fifty ether. Lars, however, proudly spent forty of his fifty ether to purchase a longsword. According to him, the amount of ether one stored wasn’t important. In an ether facility, what was important was one’s income: the amount of ether one could earn within the hour fighting in the dungeon.

After Lars’ advice, most demons spent at least half of their starting ether on different weapons. The horned dwarf behind the counter was eager to get rid of his weapons, though he wasn’t smiling at his customers.

Vivi, of course, had no ether to purchase weapons with. She wasn’t about to reveal Lucius’s presence to make a simple purchase. Lucius? she asked. How sharp are your claws at ninety ether?

“Sharper than whatever this idiot sells,” Lucius said.

A serious answer, please, Vivi thought.

Lucius sighed. “At least as sharp as those clawed katars.”

The weapon he referred to was a steel katar with four talons. One of them sold for twenty ether, a pair for thirty.

“Spirits aren’t efficient at low ether counts, Vivi,” Lucius said. “Once we reach the thousands, I’ll start to get powerful.”

I see, Vivi thought. Regardless, if we want to hide your powers, we can’t use your claws while others are watching. We’ll have to separate from this group soon.

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The demons were finishing their purchases. Vivi waited near Uundref, but not so near that Uundref could spark a conversation.

Lars and his followers looked ready to advance, hands lined with weapons. Just about everyone decided to follow Lars. A little bit of confidence and knowledge was all that Lars needed to appoint himself as leader.

“Perfect,” Uundref said. “I am once again blessed with a fine bunch of nimrods.” He spread his arms wide, regarding the bunch of fighters. “Your introduction is now finished, and your nimrod’s rights are now granted. You are free to live in Zand as you wish. As promised, however, I will perform one more favor for my dear nimrods. I will assist you with your first dungeon raid.”

Lars lifted his sword to the air, as if performing a salute. The others hesitantly followed, though their gestures weren’t nearly as confident.

Vivi stood by the side, awkwardly watching. Let’s follow them for now, she decided. With Uundref, we’re safe to examine the dungeon to see what kind of monsters we’re working with.

“Sure,” Lucius said. “If you think that’s our best action.”

Vivi had never seen a dungeon in her life. She barely even knew what a dungeon was, other than the fact that they were dangerous and filled with respawning monsters. Dungeons were the most reliable spot to earn skills and defeat boss monsters. Ether hunters performed raids on dungeons, intending to clear the boss monster in one swoop. If they had to back off, that meant monsters would respawn, and the raid was a failure.

Killing the boss is forbidden here,

Vivi thought, recalling the rules. Why is that?

“If the boss is killed, monsters stop respawning, and the dungeon becomes inactive,” Lucius said. “Dungeons take decades to recover from their cleared state. The demons here don’t want to wait that long. They’ll rather farm ether from respawning monsters.”

I see, Vivi thought. Zand is literally an ether mine, then?

“Indeed,” Lucius said. “The concept of ether facilities has existed for centuries. The levels are vast, and ether surges hit all over. Any ether that hits desolate wilds goes uncollected. That’s why it’s good to place outposts in woods like these. An ether facility’s purpose is to collect as much ether as possible where it would otherwise go wasted.”

And they use slaves to achieve that, Vivi thought.

“Seems so,” Lucius said.

Vivi wanted to frown, but kept the expression to herself. The entrance to Zand’s dungeon loomed ahead of her. A hole poked out from the descended sky at the very back of the facility. The hole was tall and enough to fit a house through.

Inside the cave, the mood switched entirely. Both in the people, and within the surroundings. The dungeon’s first room was a dome-shaped cavern with a low ceiling. The walls were covered in dim daylight gems, offering color to the otherwise gray cave environment. There were no monsters. Rather, demons lounged around, sleeping on hard ground, hugging their weapons. The first room felt like a second hub, just without stalls. Paths downward were spread all around; there were holes in the ground and stairways leading down. Only one of the paths was blocked with large double hardstone doors, guards watching over it.

Vivi had barely walked ten steps inside when a foot suddenly kicked her in the stomach.

She was knocked backward, falling on her back with force. She lay there in shock for a moment. Her instincts were slow; it took her multiple seconds to push herself back up.

Her attacker was Lars. The bulky demon frowned down at her. “You,” he said, “are not coming with us.”

Vivi looked up at him carefully, the illusion of safety knocked out of her. She was no longer in the hub. Fighting was allowed in the dungeon.

“The weak are not invited to hunt with me,” Lars said. “I won’t rob you; I’m not looking to make an enemy of anyone, but you are not invited to my hunting grounds. In facilities, there is nothing more important than one’s territory. Monsters respawn in dungeons, but not infinitely. Hunting grounds are sacred. Your help is not needed. I do not wish to share a single kill with you. I hope you understand. Get out of my sight.”

Lars gave her a goodbye scowl and turned around, back to his group. A few of the demons gave sympathetic looks to Vivi. Nobody helped. Lars’ group moved on.

“Well,” Lucius said. “I guess we won’t have to worry about hiding our powers from those guys.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep