Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven. Going back.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven. Going back.

Time until System Integration : 670 Days, 5 Hours, 46 Minutes, 22 seconds.

Bob sighed as he looked at the Adventurers Guild in what they were now calling Glacier Valley.

It had taken a week, but he'd managed to drive the Dungeon down to the sixth floor, as well as finishing the building above it.

Eddi and The Endless had really come through, delivering another two hundred and fifty thousand crystals, without which Bob would have never been able to finish so quickly.

He was tired of casting ritual magic.

While it was beautiful and complicated and magical, it was also tiring, and for the five-fold rituals, painful.

The Adventurers Guild didn't boast all of the amenities one would find in Holmstead, lacking a ritual room or offices. The living quarters were also rather spartan. However, it boasted functional, if plain, furniture and a kitchen with all necessary pots, pans, bowls, plates, and flatware.

Bob shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He'd been rushing to prepare a place for his recruits, allowing the process to drive him.

Now the reality of going back to Earth loomed large.

He was going to say his goodbyes to his friends, making sure they knew that he'd be back, hopefully in a few weeks.

But first, he had to prepare.

"So," Erick began as he carefully massaged the knots of Bailli's feet, "it's finished?"

The Church had required his services the past few days, preventing him from watching the completion of the project.

"It is," Bailli agreed with a content sigh, "it's amazing how much you can accomplish with half a million mana crystals."

"It's amazing how many mana crystals those summoners gather up," Erick replied with a shake of his head.

Bailli nodded, "It really is, although even with that technique for shielding yourself from mana density sickness, it isn't healthy to delve that deeply, for that long," she complained.

"I'm happy in that they had the resources Bob needed," she shrugged her shoulders, "but I really wish they'd take a break," she paused to let out an appreciative groan as Erick found another knot, "or at least start working on the Conjuration Crystals."

"How is it," Erick mused, "that your feet have knots in them? You're forever in your elemental form, flying. You don't walk enough to get knots."

With a shrug, Bailli replied, "I've no idea; I'm just grateful you're here to work them out."

After a few minutes of companionable silence, Erick asked, "Do you think he'll be able to do it? Save his people?"

Bailli shook her head sadly. "From what he's explained, I don't think so," she responded, "there are just too many of them, and according to Bob, convincing people to leave their homes due to a threat which they have no basis for understanding..." she trailed off.

"Bob doesn't like to talk about Earth, especially his life back there," she continued, "but from what I understand, he wasn't anyone important. He's still not sure how he's going to get his own government to listen to him, let alone anyone else's, and apparently, there are over two hundred of them."

"The numbers are insane," Erick said, "I checked with the Church, and the total population of Greenwold is just over two hundred thousand."

Huron was, by and large, an amicable man who worried little.

At this moment, he was becoming concerned.

He'd overheard a young man tell another that the first stage was complete, and refugees from 'Earth' would be arriving soon.

Interjecting himself into the conversation, he'd discovered that a local Adventurer, who turned out to be not quite so local, was attempting to save an entire planet's worth of people from death.

His initial reaction had been to offer the aid of the Church.

Then he had heard the number.

Seven billion people.

He'd had to have the number explained to him.

Now he faced a dilemma. At what point did those poor souls cease to be refugees and become an invasion?

Huron had risen within the Church because he was not only driven but also possessed a logical mind. As a result, his role was rather more administrative than he would have liked, which served to grant him a particular insight into the issue at hand.

While the ability to delve into a Dungeon and gather mana crystals was a boon from the Gods that did much to alleviate resource scarcity, the fact of the matter was you needed people with the necessary skills and magic to create food, cleanse waste and provide shelter.

The refugees wouldn't have those skills, at least not initially.

The Church would, of course, help, but the numbers didn't add up. If he gathered all two thousand plus members of the Church of Light and tasked them to aiding the refugees, it would be a drop of water in the ocean.

He'd been told that the apocalypse wouldn't occur for almost two years. After one hundred days of the worst tide imaginable, they'd be able to return to their much-changed world.

Beyond the many problems he foresaw in handling the needs of the refugees, there was a rather large, proud, arrogant, and scaley King, who might sleep through a few thousand people appearing adjacent to his Kingdom, but certainly wouldn't miss a hundred thousand, let alone a billion.

Huron bowed his head in prayer. He'd confirm the information from the Adventurer. If what he was told was accurate, then he'd have no choice.

Bob opened a portal and fell into his inventory.

The walls, ceiling, and floors were all the same bluish-black color. He'd already removed everything from his inventory, the contents waiting neatly in the corner of the tavern in his newly constructed Adventurers Guild.

Bob pushed mana into a pattern, bringing up a persistent effect mana sight spell.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that there was no variation in the mana that permeated the area.

Bob sat down in the center of the room and placed his hand in a pouch full of mana crystals. Taking a deep breath, he began to pull mana through the crystals, focusing his intent on expanding the space but maintaining the ten-foot height.

Seconds ticked by, and crystals disappeared as Bob felt an odd stretching sensation as if he were pulling a rubber band apart with his hands.

Finally, the last mana crystal disappeared, and the mana ceased to flow. Opening his eyes, Bob inspected the result of the ritual. He stood up and paced from one edge to the other. Just over seventy-five feet, giving him fifty-six hundred square feet.

More than enough to live in.

Bob portaled out of his inventory to retrieve the copper wire for the ritual to keep the environment livable.

He didn't expect to encounter any difficulties, not after the past seven days of frantic ritual casting.

Bob sat down, reaching up to scratch Monroe's ruff.

"I understand that you've come to us from another world entirely," Huron began, "one without mana," he raised a hand to silence Bob, who had opened his mouth to reply. "This will go much more quickly if you let me tell you what I know and then offer corrections," Huron said.

Bob closed his mouth, and Huron continued, "Apparently, mana will awaken in your world in a year and a half, at which point a massive monster tide will sweep over your world, destroying all who live there, as they will be level zero, and helpless before it."

"You've devised a plan to bring your people here," he continued, "allowing them to gain power and resources to accommodate more and more of them until the tide initiates and subsides, at which point they'll return home."

Bob nodded.

"And there are seven billion people on your world?" Huron asked.

"Closer to eight billion," Bob replied, "and you've pretty much got it."

Huron reached up and rubbed his temples. "The Church will, of course, offer any aid we can," he began, "however the needs of seven billion people are..." he trailed off, then shook his head, "Unimaginable."

"There are just over two thousand clergymen and women," Huron said, "and supplying food, water, and shelter for all those people is an impossible task."

"I appreciate the offered help," Bob began, "the plan is to have the vast majority of the people being brought here placed into stasis, and to be blunt, stacked up like cordwood, while a smaller number of people will delve for crystals eight hours a day to keep funding more buildings, the upkeep on the stasis spells, the food for the delvers, etc."

Huron nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose it's a failing of mine, and the clergy, in general, to often forget the unique spells that the Arcane schools offer."

Bob shrugged, "There is saying back on my world that when the only tool you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail."

Huron laughed lightly and shook his head, "Very true," he said, "although I must ask, will you allow the Church to build a temple where you've constructed your new Dungeon?"

Bob sighed, "I was trying to avoid involving the various powers of Greenwold," he explained, "I made sure to build far enough away that I wouldn't be interfering with the Kingdom at all, and I had hoped that once everyone from Earth went back home, I could have people from here move in and take advantage of it sitting there, empty."

Huron looked at Bob in disbelief. "I have trouble imagining a hundred thousand people, let alone a million, and a billion is beyond me," he continued with a shake of his head, "even if you only keep a small percentage of them active and delving, they would likely outnumber the citizens of Greenwold a thousand to one."

"You can't possibly expect to keep that many people hidden," Huron finished.

"Less expected, more sort of hoped?" Bob replied with a shrug. "I'm not the best person to do this," Bob said, "in fact, I might be the worst man for the job, but there isn't anyone else, so I'm stuck with it until I can find someone better, which I assure you will be one of my first priorities."

"I've heard a few things about you, and I saw a memory from your first wave," Huron reached over slowly and gently clasped Bob's shoulder, "you may not be the best person for the job, but you're a good man, with a brave heart."

"I'll talk to the King, and I expect you'll need to offer him a tithe," Huron said, "but I must ask that you allow the Church a place amongst your people."

"I'm not a religious man," Bob responded, "but I've seen nothing from the Church that would give me a reason to question your motives. And if were just me, I'd welcome you," he locked eyes with Huron, "but it isn't just me, so tell me why this is so important to you?"

"Because a city, town, or village without a Temple of the Light is a place waiting to fall to the Darkness," Huron said seriously, "simply by having a Temple present, you refute that idea."

"Alright," Bob relented, "but you're going to face a language barrier; none of the people I'm bringing back will speak Thayland," he paused, "maybe send someone with that universal language blessing," he suggested.

Huron nodded, "Assigning clergy won't be difficult," he assured Bob, "but we'll need to consecrate the ground and then build a Gateway, which will take some time."

"I'm leaving in the morning," Bob replied, "but Bailli knows where it is, and she can portal you there."

Huron rose and offered his hand to help Bob up.

"You have an impossible task ahead of you," Huron said, "and I'm sure you'll find obstacles you hadn't imagined."

Huron placed his hand on the golden sunburst of Vi'Radia and asked, "Will you accept Vi'Radia's blessing?"

"I'll take any help I can get," Bob responded with what he hoped was a winning smile.

Huron extended a hand and placed it gently against Bob's chest before intoning, "Vi'Radia, guide this brave soul as he seeks to save his people from Darkness, illuminate his path that he might avoid the pitfalls and snares that seek to drive him from it."

User Huron Alc'malt is attempting to grant you the Divine Blessing of Veritas; Veracity. Verbally or mentally project 'Yes' to accept this blessing, or 'No' to reject it.

'Trebor,' Bob thought quickly, 'what the fuck is this?'

'That would be the Divine Blessing Veracity, which provides you with a significant bonus to detect falsehood, although it, in turn, provides that same bonus to anyone to whom you attempt to lie to,' Trebor replied.

'Given that you'll be determining who to recruit, this would prove a valuable tool,' Trebor added.

'Can I get rid of it at some point?' Bob asked. He wasn't sure how he felt about never being able to tell a lie again. He didn't lie often, or at all really, but having the option taken off the table completely meant he couldn't easily make up an excuse to avoid interacting with people.

'In this case, Huron could retract the blessing; otherwise, no.' Trebor responded.

"Yes," Bob said, "I accept."

"Good," Huron responded, "and I have your word that you intend the Kingdom of Greenwold and its people no harm?"

"You do," Bob replied, noting that Huron was not all sunshine and flowers. The man had clearly offered him the blessing in order to determine Bob's intentions.

"Excellent," Huron smiled, "I'll take up no more of your time; I'm sure you have a list of things to attend to before your departure."

Bob nodded and stepped back, dropping a portal at his feet.

Bob looked around his cabin. He'd packed up the few things he was taking with him and stuffed a fistful of mana crystals into the enchantments to keep them going when he was gone.

He'd slept fitfully, waking up earlier than he'd intended.

His feline overlord had not been pleased and had retreated to Bob's inventory to continue his nap.

Bob shook his head. It was time.

He stored his armor in his inventory space and pulled out his old clothing from Earth. He'd done the ritual to repair the outfit himself, and it looked as good as new.

Bob tucked his phone and wallet into his pockets and retrieved a hundred mana crystals from his inventory.

He pulled mana through the crystals, focusing on the ritual. He'd reached out to Earth twice before, and this time was no different as he created the bridge between worlds.

The last mana crystal dissipated, and the portal rose up in front of him, blue-black energy swirling chaotically.

With a deep breath, Bob stepped through.