Chương 25

"First of all, let me congratulate all those who survived this tutorial," Lotheriel said.

"We are very pleased by the strong performance of planet Earth. And we encourage you to keep fighting for your planet's survival." I noticed that he lacked any pep in his voice. Which made me wonder — is this a broadcast that's just for us, without the audience? That would explain a lot of things. But I wasn't sure.

"This broadcast will not be part of the streaming. It is just an informational program that you are required to watch. The AI wants to ensure that everybody knows how the tutorial works. Now that you have had time to acclimate to the first floor, with two days remaining, these are the official System AI recommendations. First," the giant elf said, clearly reading off a teleprompter, "if you have not joined a large haven yet, we recommend that you do.

Of course, you should worry about killing alphas and a boss as your main priority in order to survive the first floor." I saw the elf's face crinkle while saying that. There were a lot of emotions on that face.

"Once you join a haven, you should start developing it. Havens are transferred from floor to floor, and they will come with you back to Earth. This is one of the main mechanics of the tutorial dungeon. Especially for societies without mana, like Earth, it is extremely important to develop new cities that will become the next strongholds of humanity." There was almost a look of disgust now on Lotheriel's face as he read. Am I the only one seeing this?

Are people not noticing how this elf is actually a huge sack of shit?

"Second, still regarding the havens: focus on their development as much as you can outside of your time hunting." Yeah, that made sense, I thought, while Lotheriel went on listing out how to focus on crafting and even stuff like potion making, cooking — saying that all professions were made equal, and each one of them was extremely important for the survival of any race, not just humans. But while he was lost in a huge amount of technicalities that did not concern me, I wondered about the dungeon.

So far, at least for me, it had been an uncanny experience. Extremely uncanny. Of course, people mostly received things tailored for them, because it would make for bad television if an archer got a spear. Unless that became its own storyline — but people like their stories pretty straight. And you only got a spear if you sucked with a bow. This train of thought was interrupted when Lotheriel said something that caught my attention.

"The System AI wants to remind all of you that nothing is left to chance. That you are supposed to take as much advantage of this opportunity as you can. It also says that no loot is distributed without thought." Oh, damn it. I immediately perked up. It's actually saying it straight up. Lotheriel continued.

"When you are distributed loot, use it wisely — but most importantly, use it properly. Spears are made to stab, and swords are made to…" Lotheriel made a pause and looked off screen. It felt like he was asking someone who the hell had written this. But as the words came out of his mouth, I felt a shiver down my spine. Is this aimed at me? Am I going insane? Am I a megalomaniac who makes everything about himself? Have I just become a raging narcissist?

Or is this literally what I was wondering about with the damn C4? The next point, though, made me think that perhaps the System wasn't talking about me, because I had no idea why it even said that.

"The System also encourages you to not take — or try to take — other people's loot. There's fate connected to loot. Interfering with fate is a tragedy…" Lotheriel squinted and repeated, "It's a tragedy in and of itself." He put his hands up and said out loud, "Whatever. Don't take anybody's loot. It's not that hard." I saw Lotheriel suddenly go still, and a small plume of smoke rose from his skin.

"I meant — these are very important rules, from the System AI itself. Any advice that you get from here, you should listen to very carefully if you want to ensure that your people survive." The show closed with a series of remarks on how one should pay attention to monsters' weak points and whatnot. Why didn't they play this at the beginning? This could have saved lives, I thought. And then I remembered that this was the same System that gave a deathly entrance test to humanity.

The same System that, without Father Okonkwo, would doom hundreds of millions of people to death. So perhaps it wasn't that strange that it hadn't warned them before. But now the survivors had a few pieces of knowledge they could use.

"That is all," Lotheriel said.

"I'll see you tonight in my regular program. Good luck with the tutorial, divers." The world unfroze. I had seen people get excited about things, but the way the crafters got excited about this was beyond human. It reminded me of people going crazy in front of branded stores the day before a new drop. And I try not to be too judgy and negative, okay? I don't want people put down because of anything. It's just that I didn't really get it, most of the time.

Like, why do you need the latest iPhone on the day it comes out, rather than two weeks later? Now, though, despite Tina trying to distribute the loot as efficiently as possible with Wilson's help, there were people getting slightly better or slightly worse things, and it was incredible to see.

Tina squashed any complaint, and even sent away one of the crafters who had gotten unruly, telling him he wasn't getting anything, and that the distribution couldn't be perfectly fair and square — especially since we were in a hurry. So the rest of the people easily got accustomed to how Tina handled things, but still looked just as eager.

And they literally swarmed us as soon as they had the things in their hands, thinking that if they didn't, they wouldn't get the chance to craft the equipment immediately and would have to wait their turn. That's when you realize that, unlike the crafting I did at the Crafting Haven, which was automatic and System-assisted, they were actually going to mostly do the work by hand. Of course, with a lot of System assist in the midst of it. But still. And so they needed measurements.

They came at us with tapes, with rulers, and with anything, really. They took one of my Gnoll Throwing Spears, and the Wild Alpha Spear I had crafted from the alpha. Apparently, Wilson was specialized in staffs and wood, and he was the one taking care of crafting me a spear from the Gnollish Hardwood. He used the horn from an alpha horned zebra and cut it into a spearhead that he also tempered in fire. When I looked at it, puzzled, he said, "The System told me to do so. You get a lot of assist from your skills.

It's kinda like it gives you a recipe, and you have to execute it to the best of your abilities." If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"I see," I commented. And so went the two most productive hours of the apocalypse. The crafters had taken all the measurements and were adjusting new armor for my teammates — things that came with even small attribute bonuses, thanks to the high quality of the equipment they were crafting. Tina and Hailey got a little more Intelligence and Wisdom. Marcus got Constitution. Lucas got Dexterity. And the best piece of the batch wasn't armor or any of the specific equipment.

Two crafters had taken Lucas aside with measuring tape, and when they came back, they had made a socketed cap of hardened leather and steel and fit that over the stump of his arm. It was a mounting bracket with a rail where the bow locked in pretty damn well. Lucas flexed, drew, and put a mana bolt into a practice target under their supervision. There was a big grin on his face when he did so. I noticed that Marcus had grown in size, and we made fun of him for not fitting that cleanly in the armor.

He'd always been quite built, but now he was also growing in height. I had been taller than him, and now we looked each other in the eye. If we had had the time to be freaked out about this kind of stuff, we would have. But as things stood, it was literally the least of our problems. Meanwhile, in chat, we also distributed the Team Perks, which I explained to my teammates. It was pretty simple. I just gave the five percent plus attack to Lucas, the mana regeneration to Tina, and the mana pool to Hailey.

Marcus complained a little that he wasn't getting anything, but it was all in good spirit. And since Wilson was done crafting my spear, I took a look at it. Item - Horned Impaler (Rank - D) - Level 20 A decent quality spear made out of Gnollish Hardwood and a horned zebra's horn. Strength, Plus 3 Dexterity, Plus 2"That's good," I nodded.

"It's like having one more level."

"And it's very durable," Wilson smiled. That's when I realized something.

"Wilson, um, can we talk in the shop for a second?"

"Of course." As we entered, I laid down the long Bone Splinters of Amon on the table. I hadn't taken these out before because, you know, with the undead thing and everything, I didn't want it to come off as… I don't know. I just thought it was in bad taste or something. Wilson touched the Bone Splinters of Amon and circled the table, looking at them very intently.

"Do you want spear hafts out of this, or spearheads? Because I don't think they're for that."

"No, um, I don't need that. I just really wanted to know what can be made out of them."

"Um. My skill is going crazy. This is maybe a little too high-level for me, but what I can do is a staff. A rod, I guess. Like a magical staff." I looked at him.

"Okay. And what's the problem?"

"It's a staff of the undead. It's not telling me what it's gonna do, but it's not hard to take a guess." We went silent. It almost felt a little cold in the room.

"Make it," I said. Wilson looked at me.

"Listen, we're walking into a fortress full of undead. If this thing is of any use, I'll take it. Whatever it is, we don't need to overthink it. Any weapon." I remembered what the tutorial said. This wasn't given to me without a reason, and it wasn't a coincidence that Wilson was specialized in staffs and wood.

"Of course." Wilson nodded.

"Um, would you mind taking out Dean? I'll work on this inside."

"All right. But bring it out once it's done, and show it to everybody. I don't want anything to be hidden, or…" I stopped short of saying it could be used against me. Wilson, though, understood.

"Of course." It took Wilson less than an hour to come out of his shop with a staff that I could only describe as the most evil thing I had ever seen. It was a very sharp staff. It had a handle in the middle of it, but otherwise it had sharp ridges, as sharp as a sharpened sword. And at its top the bone crooked in, and inside of it there was a luminescent white ball of mana. All the crafters close by, done with their work outfitting the team, looked at the thing. I cleared my voice.

"It was made with the boss's bones. It's some undead shit," I said, trying not to attract too much hate for dealing with the thing the creatures that had attacked the haven were made of. Undeath. I took the staff. Item - Excellent Staff of Amon (Rank - S) - Level 25 Crafted during an enlightened moment, this staff was made with the bones of a boss about to undergo a great evolution, infused with divine power.

Amon was to be the destroyer of humanity — so if you equip this bound staff, you might get a promotion and become the destroyer of humanity yourself. The dead have never really gone hand in hand with the living. They usually want to eat the living. Not the brains, though. That was just Hollywood. This is a Bound Item. It cannot be unequipped once worn. Holy fuck. I looked at Wilson, who was smiling at me.

"You have no idea how many levels I've gained from that," Wilson told me. I looked back at the staff. This man had just crafted an S-rank weapon? This was insane.

"It's still not a high-level staff," Wilson commented.

"Huh?" I turned to him.

"What do you mean? It says Level 25."

"Equipment strength also depends on the level, not just the rank. It can be S-rank, but a D-rank staff at level eighty would be much stronger than that one. Read the effects, though." Effects: Grants Wisdom, Plus 15 Grants Intelligence, Plus 30 Undead Magic Proficiency, Plus 300 % Grants the following Skills: Raise Undead (Rank E), Level 25 — Use your mana to raise a corpse. Corpse Explosion (Rank D), Level 25 — Make undead minions explode.

"There's no cooldown," I said, looking up at Wilson. Maybe it wasn't the best comment about a staff that could literally turn someone into a lord of the undead, but Wilson nodded and said, "It's probably mana-dependent. Not all skills have a cooldown. If it doesn't have one, it means that as long as you have enough mana, you can just keep casting it." Shit.

"Can I look?" a crafter said, getting close.

"Uh, I'll read it out loud," I said, not handing over the staff. When I did, all the crafters looked in amazement at Wilson. It seemed that, at least from their point of view, the craft that went into this was much more important than being puritanical about it being a weapon of the enemy.

"Can we use this on the undead?" Hailey said, getting close and touching the staff.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, it has Corpse Explosion, right?"

"Yeah. But it's a Bound Item, Hailey. Who's gonna use it?" She took her hand back as if she had been burned.

"It's a bound item?"

"Yep. And I don't think that anybody wants the staff that says it might turn you into the destroyer of humanity." People looked at each other.

"Should we destroy it?" a craftsman asked. I sighed.

"The System says there is nothing left to chance, so…"

"But who cares about what the System says? What if someone kills you, and they join the undead with that item?"

"Yeah, and what if a rock falls from the sky and splits your head?" Lucas shot back.

"Listen, John." He turned toward me.

"Keep the damn staff. I think we might have to use it against the undead. If not tonight, it could still come in handy."

"I guess." I put the staff away, and we gathered the last of our equipment. The craftsmen had made a lot of Balanced Throwing Spears for me. I had unlocked a recipe, and apparently I had been able to share it with them. And they helped me put the Noble King of the Jungle Saddle on King Pussycat. It was the saddle I had been carrying since I had gotten it as a reward for the achievement. They had asked the lion if he wanted any equipment, but the lion had said that he was good.

He didn't need anything to deal with the filth. Not this time. His manners and his British accent were slowly conquering most of the crafters' hearts, and after so much work together, they looked way more positively upon us. So we said our goodbyes. Father Okonkwo met us at the gate before we left.

"Your people," Father Okonkwo told King Pussycat, "are welcome here. As long as they do not kill and hunt humans, all creatures are creatures of God."

"You are a very honorable man, Priest Okonkwo," King Pussycat said, bowing his head gently and meeting the man's eyes.

"I shall bring you my subjects." And so we rode King Pussycat out of the gate. The saddle was huge, and it had handles for all of us to hold. Even Alice. One would think the saddle would have been made specifically for me and my co-workers — but there was an extra spot in there. I looked at the sky, and then at the ground. And then I tried not to think too hard, or my brain would explode. But five minutes out of the haven, a small bolt of lightning fell toward us.

King Pussycat swiftly avoided it, and in the distance I saw the burly craftsman holding his giant hammer toward us like a gun. God damn it — it was a fucking Thor's hammer, then.