Ethereal Ascension

Chapter 6

~ Scepticism ~

Alan couldn’t help but frown a bit, “The forbidden artefact? Am I supposed to know what that is?”

[Actually... Yes.]

‘Huh? Tell me,’ Alan replied internally, while maintaining his confused expression on the outside. He saw Captain Beaumont move and he panicked, ‘Spill it!’

[Artefacts are found in random dungeons and possess very unique abilities. From stain removal to rewriting reality itself. The artefacts are graded based on their level of power. A forbidden artefact is at the crux of the hierarchy.]

‘Okay, but what does that have to do with me?’ Alan’s gaze remained on the squad, who, for some odd reason, had stopped moving.

He raised a brow, ‘Are my eyes playing tricks on me?’

[No. It’s my doing. It helps relay information faster.]

[Now, listen. You went on a raid yesterday with this particular squad... Well, the former you. You discovered a forbidden artefact after clearing the dungeon and beating the final boss. Everyone was told to leave, so that higher ranked Hunters would come to carry the artefact. But by the time they arrived, the artefact was gone.]

‘Well, did I... Did the former me steal it?’ Alan asked just to be sure.

[No.]

‘Of course I didn’t. How would a Myriad 5 like me be able to carry something so powerful? It would kill me!’

The space-time continuum in that small radius, kicked back to its former pace. To Alan, it had been roughly three minutes. It had only been three seconds to the squad.

“This is the last time I will ask this, Hermolith. Where is the forbidden artefact?” Captain Beaumont asked, his patience slowly running out.

Alan sighed, “I have no idea. I mean, even you... No offence... You couldn’t carry the artefact, to avoid corruption. And now you think someone as weak as me is capable of such a feat? Just tell me you hate me and I’ll understand.”

“Hmm...” Captain Beaumont grimaced on the young man’s words.

“Playing the guilt card, are we now?” Sophia retorted. It was as though she enjoyed getting on his nerves.

He simply ignored her. He had more important things to worry about.

“You’re a man full of mysteries, Hermolith. Your awakening alone broke and widened the Hunter rank. Who knows? Maybe you’re invulnerable to the effect of artefacts,” Captain Beaumont deduced, rubbing his chin.

Alan could only ask one thing at the moment, “Why me?”

“Can’t you feel it? There’s a residual aura of the forbidden artefact wisping around your house, at least what’s left of it,” Liam answered, looking at Alan with a disturbed gaze.

“It’s true. The  forbidden artefact has been here,” Light seconded solemnly, cleansing herself with a ball of light.

“Come on, not you too,” Alan sighed. “You guys have to believe me. I didn’t steal it. Check through the rubble, you won’t find it there.”

“That’s because you’ve hidden it somewhere or thrown it away after losing the courage to sell it,” Sophia shrugged.

‘Is it forbidden to hit women in this realm?’ Alan squeezed his right fist.

[I shall leave your question unanswered, for the best.]

‘Sometimes I wonder if you’re on my side,’ he groaned inwardly.

Captain Beaumont stepped back, “Well, since you’ve refused to confess, there’s no use lingering here any longer. There’s another raid tomorrow. Make sure you show up on time. We’ll be able to confirm if you’re telling the truth or not.”

Alan felt his brows curl up, “How?”

“Just show up and stop asking silly questions,” Sophia, once again, answered with a very annoying tone.

“Until then,” Captain Beaumont folded his arms, fading away with the wind.

His squad members walked over to their steamed-powered car and drove out of the vicinity.

Alan’s eyes dilated at that moment. It wasn’t until then that he noticed how thick the air was with the scent of oil and metal. The sky was a tapestry of steam and smoke, punctuated by the occasional airship drifting lazily overhead. Brass pipes and wooden planks intertwined to form buildings that climbed toward the sky, their gears turning in a mesmerising dance of progress.

Street vendors peddled curious gadgets that whirred and clicked, promising wonders beyond Alan’s wildest dreams.

It was as though he had been transmigrated into a world of steam and machinery. There were still clear skies over some areas and some buildings were built with concrete.

It was like a half-steampunk, half-modern kind of world. Oratoa was a very unique realm.

“At least it’s not the mediaeval age. I can’t be riding horses and spamming letters just to talk to someone,” Alan shrugged in acceptance.

The realm was fascinating and he was eager to explore it, but he had more important tasks to carry out first. And one big issue to worry about.

He glanced at the rubble where his room once was, “This is my first day here and this just had to happen.”

[As a Hunter, you are entitled to certain privileges. One of which is damage insurance.]

‘Even though I’m a Myriad 5? Nice,’ Alan sighed in relief. ‘So... How do I contact them?’

[I’ve done that already.]

‘Hm. Convenient,’ he smiled, turning away from the house and taking a stroll down the street.

[It’s best if you complete your daily basic training before the time limit expires.]

Alan took a glance at his wrist watch, mused by the tiny turning gears around it, ‘It’s only a few minutes to nine. There’s still time. First, I need to get something to eat.’

[You understand that you’re broke, right? You have to spend the little you have wisely.]

‘A pauper on earth, a broke man in this realm. Misfortune really is omnipresent and its only target is me,’ Alan shook his head, feeling his pocket for any cash. He soon felt a bump in his left back pocket, prompting him to slip his hand inside and take out whatever the bump was.

He raised his hand to his eye level and unfurled the brown ball of paper. He could tell it was money from the rectangular shape, Oratoa’s insignia on one side, and the picture of a man on the other side.

A Falcon made of gears with its wings spread wide was the insignia, depicting freedom. The man on the other side looked over fifty, with a moustache, and a monocle on his left eye.

“Probably the president or something...” Alan muttered absentmindedly. He noticed the number 1 enclosed in a circle, piquing his interest, ‘One Surn, I suppose?”

[Yes.]

‘How big or small is it compared to a dollar?’

[One Surn equals ten dollars.]

His brows mopped up, ‘Heh. Fascinating. This should be enough for one meal.’

He quickly folded and slipped the money into his pocket, once he noticed the strange gazes from some shady looking men all over the street.

He knew their intentions as he was once like them.