Chapter 85: Eyes of the World (IV)

Eyes of the World (IV)

Roughly half a week had passed before the group found their way out of the Graveyard of Swords, winding up on top of the same mountain surrounded by the Tower Natives in droves. Plenty of them shot a curious glance at the party, though not much besides that.

The portal continued to shimmer behind them, though its luster had dimmed considerably -- after all, three of its eight bosses were defeated, including the most powerful one. As far as Cain knew, the construct from the Palace would 'respawn' in a few days, which should recover some of the lost luster but it will never again reach its peak due to the Ruined King.

The group made their way out of the immediate area, though they didn't rush. They mostly chatted about their newly acquired items, titles, and stats, excitedly sharing just how stronger they'd gotten. Cain, however, didn't join in, as he didn't want to reveal that he was level 49. After all, contrasting that to others' levels might really force them to start asking the right questions.

The highest of them was Senna, sitting at level 32, and the lowest was Diya, at 29. Both Emma and Jamal were 31. All things considered, actually, these were the averages before people moved onto the second floor. Some stayed behind to grind out further, but it was a rarity since the second floor wasn't nearly as combat-reliant as the first.

Cain was a major anomaly, even among the anomalies. If he wanted, he could spend around a week longer and genuinely fulfill the requirements for the First Awakening. It was pointless, however, since he'd still have to wait until the fifth floor to actually undergo the Awakening.

They quickly descended down the Mountain of Dreams, this time without any trouble, and landed at its bottom, overseeing the flatland that the group looked to have sorely missed. After all, it signaled that they were just a week or so off from the exit if they hurried slightly.

However, they didn't rush -- they spent roughly fourteen hours a day walking at a brisk pace, with the remaining ten reserved for sleeping and rest.

By the time they reached the ravine, ready to take the same road back as they took to get here, they began to notice something was strange. More and more people came in their sights, some rushing without even paying much attention to them, others appearing to hesitate for a moment before, similarly, rushing off -- likely due to their equipment that they were displaying precisely because of that.

Even the ravine was packed-full with people hunting down the monsters, so much so that Cain often had to fly them over battlefields so their pace didn't completely drop off.

Furthermore, the closer they got the to entrance and exit of the Tower, the more people in military uniforms there were. Similarly, across what seemed to become the 'main road', there were checkpoints every couple of miles, and even mini-towns acting as relay stations.

"Sir!" a bellowing shout caused Cain and others to glance back as they stood in line to enter one of the 'towns' so they can proceed forward. They avoided them thus far by having Cain fly them over, but due to the narrower space and far more guards, it was impossible to do so here without being seen. As such, they lined up with the rest and patiently waited. "McLain's group is back!" the man who screamed out was rushing by the side of the line, donning a military uniform, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"Pipe down!" another man at the front, similarly draped in the military uniform though with clear seniority, exclaimed back as the runner came to a halt in front of him. "So what? If they start something again, just arrest them!"

"They've joined forces with two other advanced groups," the young man said. "And another that claims they were responsible for clearing the floor!"

"Huh?!" the man's words caused a stir both in the line as well as within the ten-feet-tall walls of the little 'town'. In the meantime, Cain's party glanced at the front with strange looks in their eyes.

"Are we really here?" Jamal mumbled sarcastically.

"No, clearly," Emma said. "Or, we imagined all that."

"Should we go and beat their asses up?" Senna asked, clearly itching to do just that.

"Just be silent and let's get through this without stirring anything up," Cain said, shaking his head and sighing. "Isn't it better for us if some other idiots willingly take up the mantle of those who cleared the floor?"

"Y-yes, I agree." Diya added.

"..." the other three shrugged and dismissively sighed, though turned silent in the end. They knew just as well that being the center of attention was hardly worth the trouble.

Just around then, Cain glanced back, noticing the stir at the end of a nearly half a mile long line. Charging Body into his eyes, he 'zoomed-in' so to say, clearing up his vision. At the back end, rather than standing in the line like the rest, a group of roughly forty people was marching forward with confident expressions, all armed to the teeth -- naturally, in Cain's eyes, all their equipment was beyond garbage, but managing to equip that many people even with basic equipment this early on certainly was worth something.

Sighing and regretting not just flying them over as quickly as possible even if they were noticed, he closed his eyes and ignored the ruckus, praying they don't get held up for hours because of the idiots.

On the other hand, Emma, Jamal, Diya, and Senna curiously stared at the newcomers, quickly losing their interests, however, when they noticed how basic their equipment is.

On the other hand, the 'town's' walls were quickly filled up with uniformed soldiers, though instead of guns, bizarrely, most were equipped with bows and a few with swords, spears, shields, and such. It was such a weird juxtaposition that Emma almost burst out into laughter, barely holding it in.

Within less than a minute, the massive group was walking by their side; there appeared to be five leaders altogether, each sporting a tier higher equipment than the rest. Three were Blademasters, one was an Elementalist, and one was an Assassin. Their classes weren't all that difficult to discern as they didn't bother hiding them, something that would only become a norm sometime later. Ah, they noticed them...

Though most people they came across thus far understood Cain's and others' equipment was above average, few could actually properly estimate it. This group of forty, however, seemed different, their leaders pausing abruptly as their eyes landed on Emma and the rest who went back to chatting among themselves.

"Yo," Cain pulled them out of their own little world. "You guys wanted the spotlight? You got it." he added with a smile, nodding his head forward and prompting others to look the same way.

The five 'leaders' had separated from the rest and were walking over the flatland, their eyes clearly glued to their group. Diya flinched and pulled back behind Jamal, who immediately looked away, disinterested, while Emma and Senna frowned.

I don't recognize anyone, Cain mused inwardly. Hmm... two of them are just slightly short of level 20... others are around 15... not bad, actually. It looks like they went in quite deep. That Elementalist... hmm... that's Orb of Cold, right? So, he must have been in the Frosted Caverns... likely without digging too deep as otherwise he'd long since been killed.

"Your equipment..." one of the men spoke out immediately as the five stopped just a couple of feet away from Emma and others. He appeared to be in his late thirties, one of the Blademasters, with a huge blade strung up over his shoulders, donning a leather-woven, grayish coat, his face halfway hidden by a hood. "Where did you get it? I will give one grand for all of them."

"..." Emma stared dumbly at them for a moment, glancing at Cain as though to ask 'are these morons for real?'. The latter immediately looked away, letting the other four do as they wish.

"Don't insult them, David," another Blademaster, appearing somewhat younger than the former, stepped out and spoke out with a chuckle. "At least offer eleven hundred."

"Before... before any more horseshit leaves your mouth," Senna interjected, not in the mood. "Keep stomping with your hooves to wherever you're going."

"Or else?" the man called David asked.

"... are we allowed to kill them?" Senna asked Cain who sighed at being pulled into the mess.

"No... of course not..." he replied, looking at her strangely. "There's literally like forty uniforms watching you. Hundreds of people have seen your face. I thought... I thought you were smart..."

"... shut up." Senna blushed, stomping her foot as she looked back to the front. Just then, a man from the front arrived, the one who looked responsible for the entire 'town', sporting a military uniform.

"Did you come here to stir shit up again?!" he asked the five with a hardened tone and the expression, pulling their attention away.

"Stir shit up? Of course not," the only woman in the group, the Elementalist, replied with a faint smile. "We're just trying to buy a thing or to, no?"

"Then buy them at the designated shops," the man said. "And stop holding up the line."

"How are we holding up the line if we're not even a part of it? Aren't you holding up the line by taking out all your goons to welcome us? What? America's pride and terror scared of a few people?" the Assassin of the group jeered and taunted. Aah, I can't wait until the initial high wears off, Cain, on the other hand, lamented inwardly. Though... the army guys are actually decently equipped... he mused as a smile appeared on his face. Looks like Rick struck a deeper deal with the government.

"Hey," Jamal suddenly thought of something, speaking to the military officer. "If we make these guys go away, can we, like, skip to the front or something?"

"Ha ha ha ha..." while the military officer glared at him, as though saying 'why are you making it harder for me', the party of five burst out into laughter.

"Rock-paper--" he paused when the laughter ceased abruptly, his eyes veering to the front that was now... empty. He immediately looked back at Cain who fervently signaled with his eyes, causing Jamal to sigh. "Ah, they were so weak... I... I did stuff and now they're gone. Can we go to the front?"

"..." under the monstrously confused gazes of the many, the military officer escorted the small group of five to the front, largely absentminded himself.

"Where'd you send them?" Emma whispered softly.

"Ah... places..." Cain replied. In reality... they were actually underground. He'd dug out a tunnel for them, but the tunnel was around six-seven miles long, so their journey back to this point will likely take a while.

"Are there more idiots like them?" she quizzed.

"Yup," Cain nodded. "That will pretty much become the norm. It's a fine example of what would have happened to you lot without my sagacious guidance."

"..." Emma rolled her eyes at him as the group made it into the town. Cain looked around and winced briefly, as the whole place reminded him quite a lot of those Mining Outposts that he'd spent quite a few years at, digging into the hardened earth in search of precious ores and such. It was sparsely populated, drably colored, with no entertainment in sight.

"Ah!" the military officer suddenly exclaimed, coming to an abrupt halt and forcing the five to do the same. He glanced back and scrutinized their faces deeply for a moment before speaking. "No wonder you lot seemed familiar!! You're Mr. Garcia's Party, no?"

"..."

"Ah, don't be suspicious or anything!" the military officer quickly said as he noticed the strange looks in their eyes. "It's just a part of the deal Mr. Garcia made with the U.S. government -- you are granted free access to everything and don't need to queue up at any of the Relay Towns. Furthermore, you can dispose of all the unnecessary equipment at our Shops as the major shareholder of all of them is Mr. Garcia himself. Of course, you can choose to directly hand them to him if you'd like."

"Oh, this place?" Jamal pointed at a two-story building to his left, made out of red brick like the rest of them.

"Yes," the military officer said. "If you'd like, we also have some spare quarters for you guys to rest at and a wide array of refreshments and meals."

"Clear up everything below 'B'," Cain said to the four. "And see what they have in stock. If anything catches your eye, just take it. You are...?" he then turned to the military officer and asked.

"Ah, my bad, my bad -- I'm Sargent Collins of the Fourth Tower Regime," the officer said, saluting. "Jack is fine, though."

"Jack, huh? Who were those guys, anyway?" Cain asked as he walked over to the familiar-looking refreshment area, stationed with a dozen or so tables of drinks and fruits, while the other four entered the building to dump roughly two hundred items they'd picked up altogether. Jack stumbled for a moment but wound up following Cain.

"Some of the more famous Advance Parties," the officer said as Cain gingerly walked over to the alcohol section and poured himself a cold glass of whiskey. "McLain's, led by a Blademaster, David McLain. From our intel, the average level of his party is 15, making them one of the strongest we're aware of. Amelia Frost, the Elementalist, is another; she's hard to do much about since she's become quite an internet sensation. The other three are Emilio Spenser, the Assassin, another tough fish since he's a direct representative of Tower Conglomerate. Well, at least one of them. Another is Andrew McMillan; though his party isn't anything special, he himself is reportedly almost level 20. The last one is... I'm not quite sure myself. He seems to be part of the rumored party who is responsible for clearing the floor, though we are still trying to gather trustworthy intel on him."

"Hm..." Cain mumbled disinterestedly, once again confirming that all five sounded unfamiliar. There was no shortage of 'celebrities' this early on, most of which would die out by the year's end when the first true rankings among the Conquerors would actually start appearing. Until then, most of the 'strongest people' were simply those who bragged the most and the loudest to the masses. "Did we make it hard on you guys? They should be back in a few hours."

"No, no, don't worry about it; we'll deal with them, somehow," Jack replied quickly. He had many orders hovering above his head, but very few warnings -- and the chief among them was to treat Mr. Garcia's Advance Party as though they were his direct superiors. "They're mostly just posturing, anyway."

"What's the highest level you're aware of?" Cain asked.

"The report came in last night confirming that a man nicknamed simply as the 'Swordsman' had reached level 25. All things considered, even if he isn't the highest, we suspect he's among the highest."

"Quite low..." Cain mumbled absentmindedly, startling Jack who could have sworn he misheard.

"L-low...? If you don't mind me asking... what's your level, Mr. Gregory?"

"..." Cain smiled faintly, taking the last sip of whiskey. "How many corporations had dipped their fingers into the lot?"

"... uh... most of them, I imagine," Jack replied. "Few are public about their endeavors, however."

"Figures," Cain said, looking up at the darkened ceiling. They were roughly a day away from the exit even when the rest and slow pace were taken into consideration. "I'll draw you a map," he said. "It'll show you how to get to a fairly good dungeon we found while exploring. Items dropped there are fairly decent, and Blademasters get a good boost while training there. Send it to whoever's in charge of the Army's Operations in the Tower, and have 'em send some of your guys there to level up. You can have the monopoly for two months; if, by then, you haven't released the information publicly, I will. Got it?"

"Y-yes..." Jack nodded as Cain quickly drew up the path toward the Graveyard of Swords. Though he wasn't above helping out the government, he hardly wanted to be tied to them permanently. In the last timeline, it had grown virtually obsolete within the first couple of years since most soldiers would leave the army to chase their own destiny, eventually leading to the army's inability to deal with the ever-strong Conquerors. Within three years, the entire job of the U.S. government had nothing to do with the Towers anymore and was mostly tied to ordinary people leading ordinary lives.

"Looks like they are done," Cain said, noticing the four walking up toward them. "Well, we'll be on our way now. Good luck, Sargent Collins."

"Uh, y-yeah, thanks..."

He escorted the group of five with his eyes, though was quite jittery all the while since he wanted to rush back into the Item Repossession Store. Luckily, the group didn't loiter around the town and immediately left, prompting him to rush back and into the store. There, a familiar face welcomed him, though with quite a few noticeable differences -- ghostly-pale face, widened eyes that seemed listless, and the gaping mouth.

"Clark? What happened?" Jack asked as soon as he entered.

"A-ah, Sir?!" the young man, appearing barely in his twenties, quickly shot up to his feet, saluting the Sargent. "W-what can I do for you?"

"Those four that just entered," Jack said. "What kind of items did they drop? How much did you pay them?"

"P-pay them...?" Clark mumbled, his face turning yet another shade of paler. "S-Sir..."

"What is it? Speak!"

"Uh... they... they dropped off 249 items," the young man spoke as though he himself didn't believe it. "Of them, 148 were of at least 'B-' quality, with the rest evenly separated among the lower ranks. There were weapons, armors, trinkets, accessories, materials... I... even... even just rough calculations of how much it all cost made me lightheaded... they said we didn't need to be in rush to sell them, and that, instead, if we chance upon a decent item, we should save it for them..."

"..." Jack, by now, had a similar expression to the clerk -- just a single 'B-' ranked item was treated like a treasure around here, especially if they had a level requirement. On the outside, auctions were rampaging daily on 'B' ranked items, and even still, at most two would pop up daily. Yet, there he was, now in possession of 148 of those items. "S-start slow..." he mumbled. "Get rid of lower-ranked equipment... p-putting one B-ranked every few days up for auction... fucking hell, I need a drink..."