Searching For Andromeda 48 Dungeon | Part 6 Necropolis

When the two suns have set, there was nothing but darkness shrouding the entire city of the dead. It was the crackle of the campfire and the smell of stew that had accompanied the group who took shelter in one of the ruins. Samuel leaned to the wall as he ate the stew. It wasn't too far from what was considered universally normal. It had potatoes, carrots, and little meat. The only thing he noticed—it was bland. But at these trying times, satisfying one's palate was not something to prioritize.

"That reminds me," Hosea starts. "Samuel."

Samuel lifted his gaze. It was a good thing they weren't calling him youngling now.

"You said you got separated from your group when you fell to a black tunnel with some monsters, no?"

"Yes." Samuel exclaims. "We were fighting them off. The lame leade—I mean—our LEADER was able to save us by decomposing the particle of some gla.s.s that acted the lid of the tunnel. When it decomposed, we all fell down and I woke up with you guys."

"Sounds like a gateway to the dungeon," Vashti says. She then tucked a loose strand of her hair to the back of her ear. "You said you came from a very far place. Where is it, Samuel? Sembilica? Patriargë? Urduja?"

"I—er, no." Samuel paused. "It's not here."

"Well, which continent are you from?" Asks Pelmon. "Vashti only included Triefan, after all."

"Triefan?" Samuel asks.

"The Eastern Continent," answers Hosea. "It's called Triefan. You don't know them?"

"No," Samuel replies.

"Well, that can't be helped," Pelmon chuckles. "You see; we're divided into four continents. North, East, South, and West. That is—Versengen (North), Triefan (East), Erde (South), and Kurbeln (West)."

"Oh," Samuel exclaims. "I see."

"So, do you remember which continent you're from?" Pelmon asks.

"Well, no," says Samuel. "I'm not from here. Anywhere here."

"What do you mean?" Vashti asks.

"I'm from . . . Peru. Well, I'm not living there. My team and I are a.s.signed to investigate a laboratory. Things happened and we fell to a tunnel and voila! I'm here with you guys."

"I don't really understand, but you came from a place named Peru, 'no?" Hosea retorts.

"Perhaps it's from the northern continent?"

"Or the West, considering his hair color," Arletha says with a grin. "He still looks like a n.o.ble, after all."

"Kurbeln is too far from here," says Pelmon. "And besides, they closed their borders, right? And their trade is on a halt as well?"

"Yeah. I heard Lofthim is on the brink of disaster with its falling economy." Arletha exclaims. "Such a shame, now. I wanted to come there one day."

"Shush," Hosea exclaims. "Quit with the politics, you guys. It's making the stew go sour."

"Wait, that reminds me, Hosea is from the Western continent—Kurbeln—right?" asks Pelmon.

"Yes, and no, I don't want to talk about it," Hosea then smiles as his gaze fixed on Samuel. "How about we just tell Samuel how Wahid's Vessel works? Isn't that better?"

"Heh, you're clearly changing the topic." Vashti murmurs.

"What was that, Vashti?" Hosea flashed a smile.

"Kidding!" Vashti says, sweating profusely.

Samuel stares at Hosea—remembering someone—

"You remind me of our leader, Hosea." Samuel says.

"Oh, do I?" Hosea then smiles, and then as if on cue, his eyes lit up. "That's right! You should tell us more about your group, Samuel."

The others seemed to agree, and were eagerly looking at Samuel - waiting for him to talk. Yael was still on the corner with his arms crossed. Somehow, it reminded Samuel of someone in his task force, too.

"Well . . ." Samuel starts. "We just met not too long ago, so I can't really fill in difficult questions,"

"The leader's name is Ephraim. He wears gla.s.ses, and he has brown hair. He's what you can call a dork. He's an archaeologist."

"Archaeologist?"

"Someone who goes to excavation sites. Digs. You know. Unveil some artifacts and stuff,"

"Oho," Hosea then caressed his chin as he narrows his eyes. "Artifacts, huh?"

"And there's this girl named Esmeralda," Samuel says. "She's a bit shorter than me, but she's a year older. She's our biologist. Her blond hair is long and wavy. She's also what you can consider . . . awkward. Kind of like Arletha,"

"Wha—I'm not awkward!" Arletha says.

"On the short part," Samuel exclaims. "Anyways there's this guy named Hiroaki. He's what you can call the ninja type. A former sergeant. We discovered he's some sort of a spy. He doesn't talk much, so we don't talk to him much in return."

"Kind of like Yael, huh?" Pelmon says.

"No fair! I was going to say that." Vashti pouted.

"And there's this guy named Berthold." Samuel grins. "He's a doctor. He's the oldest of us all, and he acts like some kind of an old man sometimes."

"You really like this Berthold guy, huh, Sam?" Says Hosea.

"No." Samuel cringed. "Don't put it that way. He's just ridiculous."

"About this Ephraim guy," Hosea exclaims. "You said he's your leader. How come I remind you of him?"

Samuel thought of Ephraim's rehea.r.s.ed smiles. "Well . . . you guys are . . . both . . . cool, I guess?"

"Aw~ Samuel thinks you're cool, Hosea," Vashti exclaims.

"Well, that's not something that happens every day." Arletha whistles, and then flashes a taunting grin.

"That wasn't very nice, was it?" Hosea chuckles.

"Say,"

All of the group stopped. The voice who had spoken was deep and had easily piqued the group's attention.

Yael wasn't even staring at them. He was looking over to the far distance. Samuel wondered what he was looking at. It was pitch-black darkness beyond the campfire, after all.

"Yael, what's wrong?" Asks Pelmon, who had executed the question the others had written all over their faces. Even Samuel was intrigued by Yael's sudden call. Yael, after all, was considered a man of few words. Samuel didn't need a year to spend time with him to know that. Judging by the way he had spoken (and not), it was obvious from the start that Yael's normal was speaking . . . less.

From the whole minute, there was silence.

Until.

"Arletha," Hosea exclaims, drawing a book from his sleeve. Even though Samuel wondered how he was able to conceal a book from his robes, he knew there were more pressing matters starting now.

"Yes. Pelmon. Vashti," Arletha then hopped an impossibly high jump to the wall on the ruins. She then drew her bow and had loaded an arrow. Samuel started to back away as each one of the group suddenly started to grow vigilant at every pa.s.sing second. His instincts told him there was trouble. But how could one even sense trouble if there was nothing but pitch-black darkness and the crackle of the firewood?

"Here it comes," Yael says.

"Wh-what?" Samuel asks. "Who's coming?"

"Enemies."