Searching For Andromeda 90 Alaris: A Republic

"I see," the dragon addressed. "You both are from this certain world named 'earth.'"

"You don't know where it is?" Samuel remarked. "Like, you know, how usual Isekai novels go. Don't you have anything to say? For instance, tell us we need to complete this task to get back to our world?"

"Sam." Although Ephraim said this, he was thinking about the same thing.

Typical Isekai novels would give at least a clue whereas why a protagonist was sent to another world. Either he got hit by a truck and this is his next life, or he was transmigrated to finish a mission a.s.signed to him by a G.o.ddess. As far as this concept goes, it serves in every Isekai medium as a guide. A torch that would lead the protagonist to a path that is meant to be taken.

"I, the guardian who has been living in this dungeon for a millennium, never heard of anything like the 'earth'." The dragon exclaimed. "Wahid, the One and Supreme Being, created dungeons to perfect the world and His creations. The deities residing here in the dungeon are all pieces of Wahid. They act as the 'G.o.d' of these realms. The monsters in the dungeons, on the other hand, are the trials to perfect Humans like you."

Samuel scowled.

"So . . . you mean we're still the creation of Wahid even if we're not from here?" 

The dragon only gave Samuel a stare.

"Youngling, I cannot tell. I only am a guardian secluded in this dungeon for a thousand years." The dragon said. "I could only answer questions regarding the past. The present, that is for the two of you—the conqueror and his companion—to find out."

**

"The past, huh?"

The guardian, before transporting Ephraim and Samuel back to Alaris, said something that the young archaeologist couldn't quite put his finger into.

"You are an inexperienced vessel to Nar's powers." The guardian said. "If you want to wield Nar properly, you will have to harness that fire within your heart to circulate in your body."

The way the dragon said it made Ephraim remember his unskillful swordsmanship. And . . .

"The anomalies you have seen do not belong to the dungeon." 

Whatever that meant, made Ephraim feel heavy on the chest. The dungeon gave no explanation about what he meant about these 'anomalies,' but basing from Samuel's reaction—his head and shoulders slumping down while clenching his fist—tells Ephraim there was something he understood about the guardian's words.

He and Sam were slowly being lifted by a certain elevator with a transparent film of light enclosing them inside. Ephraim glanced at the bags of golds they were able to gather and a treasure chest filled with mountains of jewelry and gold coins. Practically speaking, if they want to survive, they needed money.

Ephraim glanced at Samuel, who was looking at the far distance; eyes lost in deep thought. Around them were heaps of stars and the galaxy. The elevator was moving at a slow pace, which made everything look significantly enthralling. The alignment of the stars was different than the one in their world. Ephraim glanced upwards, which showed nothing but light.

At this point, the two of them were just silent; digesting the fact that they were indeed transported to another world and just survived the first day in Andromeda's realm with the blood of others spilled for their sake.

**

A towering edifice that reached the skies—a golden and silver dagger amidst the city of Alaris—was the Dungeon of Nar. The dungeon has been long unconquered, and it has been a month ever since Yael and his party delved into its grounds.

The walking peasants looking at the streets ridden with wares and freights stood alarmed. An apple fell to the floor as the ground quaked and vibrated. The clang of the wares made the residents glance left and right in alert. 

"An earthquake?"

"Is a Water Serpent going to the coasts again?"

The chatters from the residents quickly died down when one pointed into the golden dagger that stood into Alaris' capital slowly crumbling away. No, it wasn't crumbling like that of a house falling into debris. It shriveled to the ground, shrinking straight without its wall collapsing. It was like it was being absorbed back to the ground.

All of the Alarians that were on that fateful day stood by their feet and watched the dungeon slowly disappearing completely from the ground. The streets emptied and the wares were left unattended as they all rushed towards the remnants of the dungeon that once stood proudly for a millennium.

This was the fateful day. The day a dungeon conqueror from Alaris finally emerged. Alaris, a small country, the only republic in Triefan, the Eastern Continent. It was something you never see every day, or in this case, a thousand years. 

**

Meanwhile, the same time—

In her office, Guildmaster Shey Ramgold was writing and signing paperwork and approving quests. And as she stamped one with the Red Alaris Guild seal, the ink from the side of the table spilled right onto the edge of the doc.u.ment. The guild master blinked as she realized her desk was juddering. She took a step away from her seat and then she sees that the objects in her office shuddered whilst the ground vibrated.

Shey's eyes widened as she glanced at the window in her office. Her eyes widened as she sees the dungeon crumbling from the distance.

**

The remnants of the dungeon were a pit. Under the pit was the silhouette of two people. Shey heaved as she finally reached the remnants of the dungeon. Her heart was beating fast, like galloping horses of cavalries meant to crush their enemies. Her anxiety was matched with the sweat dabbling across her forehead.

The guild master was old, but she was still as strong as she was when she was young. She jumped down to the pit.

"It's been a month, Yael!" She said. "Hosea, Pelmon, Arletha, Vashti!"

The dust slowly cleared, from Shey's perspective and the people peering from above.

Shey's smiles froze in an instant as she sees two unfamiliar figures standing with a chest chockfull of jewelry and bags jam-packed with gold. She felt as if her heart stops beating for a moment as the chatters died down as the dust cleared completely.

A boy with cracked gla.s.ses and a youngling with platinum-blond locks.

"Who . . . are you?"