Chapter Nineteen: From Netcom to Telecom

"Where is this place?" Seeing me standing at the edge of the pit, lost in thought, Nocturne in B-flat Minor walked over and asked. He glanced down.

"Whoa, it's really dark..."

"This is my first time here too, I have no idea what's below."

"Should we go down and take a look?" Nocturne gazed at me inquisitively, torchlight reflecting in his eyes, a gleam of curiosity shimmering within them.

"Hmm..." I lowered my head, considering his suggestion. So far, we hadn't encountered any formidable foes. The bats in the tunnels had been troublesome, but the three of us could easily handle them. By that logic, whatever horrors might lurk in the pit likely weren't much worse than those bats. So the odds of the three of us pressing on safely were still...

"Ahhh..."

Just as I was weighing our options, a sudden, hysterical scream erupted behind us—it was Bull Million. His ear-splitting wail was so abrupt and powerful that it startled both me and Nocturne, making us stumble, nearly sending us tumbling headlong into the bottomless chasm.

"Ahhh..."

Another scream rang out, sharper and even more piercing than Bull Million's, a sound so intense it seemed to shatter the very air, thunderous and soul-jarring.

"Enemy attack!" was my first instinct. I instantly snatched up my sword, spun around, and prepared to face the oncoming battle.

What met my eyes was an utterly bizarre scene:

Bull Million had dropped his massive wooden stake, hugged his head, and was desperately wriggling into a crevice in the cavern wall, utterly oblivious to the fact that his enormous horns were still jutting out awkwardly. As he squeezed himself in, he continued to let out anguished, blood-curdling shrieks.

On the other side, a huge, imposing black bear crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around itself, eyes shut tight, looking helpless and forlorn. The shattering, porcelain-cracking shriek had come from "it."

Had the bear somehow learned the vampire bats' ultrasonic screech? And above its head floated a name, unmistakably an Otherworlder's moniker: Fairy Descends, Faceplants.

What was going on? The bizarre tableau left me utterly baffled.

"Ahhh..." I stared, dumbfounded, as these two, clearly having startled each other, continued their endless chorus of screams...

"Enough... stop, stop, stop!" Unable to bear it, I shouted. My voice echoed off the hall's walls. Both the bull and the bear froze in shock and fell silent. Bull Million remained stuck mid-squeeze, his rear protruding awkwardly, his tail twitching. The bear kept its crouched, arms-crossed posture, craning its neck to look at me. The two of them resembled modern, magical realist animal sculptures.

"What happened here?" I cleared my throat, walked over, and gave Bull Million's rump a nudge, signaling him to turn around and answer.

"I... I was just here..." he pointed to the tunnel entrance, "You two had already gone ahead. I was about to follow when suddenly someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw... saw this guy... scared me half to death... I almost had a heart attack..."

"I'm not just 'this guy'..." The black bear suddenly stood up and refuted him in a gentle, crystalline voice, clear and bright as sunlit crystal, with a warmth that was endearing.

As she spoke, a cyan ring of light spiraled up from beneath her paws, swirling around her body. As the light faded, a young elven girl appeared before us, clad in a leather robe, a feathered headband, and holding a short wooden staff.

"...I heard voices over here and wanted to check it out. I saw you all here and meant to say hello. I tapped him on the shoulder, and he just started screaming. He was so loud, and looked so scary, I couldn't help but scream too..." The elf girl, Fairy Descends, Faceplants, spoke in a small, embarrassed voice, her cheeks still flushed from the recent fright, making her look both pitiful and adorable.

"Is that any way to say hello? Sneaking up like that, and in that form—anyone would be scared out of their wits..." Bull Million, shameless as ever, began to boast, "...Good thing I'm brave. If it were anyone else, and you spooked them into an accident, who would take responsibility?"

He muttered under his breath, "And you say others look scary? You're quite pretty yourself." Though he tried to argue, he couldn't help sneaking glances at the elven girl.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she apologized repeatedly, "...This place is terrifying, and there are often big, scary bats around, so I always stay in bear form. I was just so excited to see you, I forgot to change back..."

"How did you get here?" Nocturne asked curiously. "Don't tell me you came alone?"

"I... I was brought here by someone. My friend ran into trouble nearby. When I saw people coming, I hoped you could help us..." At this, the elf girl shyly lowered her head, only glancing at us with the corner of her eye, as though afraid we'd turn her down.

"What happened to your friend?" Seeing her troubled look, I guessed her friend was in serious trouble. Helping those in need is a mark of a true adventurer, so I said, "Where is he? Take us to him."

The walls of this underground hall were not smooth stone. The edges were jagged and rough, and in some places, these walls formed corners large enough for two or three people to huddle within.

Fairy Descends, Faceplants had been hiding in such a corner with her companion.

This gentle, easily-embarrassed elf girl was a druid. Druids are guardians of nature and neutrality, beloved children of the nature goddess Natuania. They view mountains, forests, and fields as their soul’s homeland, hermits set free to wander with the wind.

Druids are both beneficiaries and protectors of the natural world, blessed by their goddess with powers to keep the world in balance. They rarely use conventional elemental magic, preferring to blend with nature in their own way, gaining unique magical abilities—powers to command the wonders of the wild, even to transform themselves into wolves, leopards, or bears, embracing their wild side and fusing themselves wholly with nature.

Their magic isn't their only wonder; most druids possess remarkable healing skills. Unlike clerics, who can heal the soul by divine grace, druids can use nature's gifts to heal the body, banish pain and sickness, and help wounds mend more quickly. Every druid is a welcome companion, ever helpful and friendly, always ready to support their friends—so long as one can put up with their sometimes eccentric beliefs.

Druidic teachings are similar to elven traditions, though not all druids are elves, nor do all elves follow druidic ways. Some proud elves see druidism as simply their everyday lives, "close to truth" but not possessing it; while many druids see elves as merely "a product of natural evolution," not particularly favored by the goddess.

I didn't know what this elf druid thought of her heritage and faith, but in the presence of a follower from another race, it seemed wise to avoid discussing race or religion.

What I didn't expect was that the druid girl's companion turned out to be a half-orc warlock.

Among the world's many magical traditions, warlocks rarely enjoy a good reputation.

They are metaphysicians, agnostics, mystics, and pessimists. They believe that in the countless planes of the multiverse, anything is possible, everything rooted in coincidence, and that our existence—the continent of Falvey, the gods—are but one chance amid endless possibilities.

They propose this: since gods demonstrably exist, perhaps there are other beings in the planes just as powerful. Gods bestow power upon their faithful; warlocks, for their part, strike their own bargains—seeking out mighty extraplanar entities and trading their souls for power.

To them, there’s little difference between their path and that of the devout: both offer something in exchange for power. The faithful offer belief, cloaked in the pretense of holiness; warlocks offer souls—often not their own—in a straightforward, transactional exchange.

Only the boldest, most deranged minds would dare such a theory, and, incredibly, it has been proven in practice. Many brilliant but extreme spellcasters have contacted powerful outsiders and made pacts. These entities send avatars—familiars—to assist their mortal partners, fighting alongside them and sharing the souls they reap.

But this alliance is perilous. If a familiar deems its warlock too weak to fulfill the bargain, it might turn and claim the warlock’s soul instead. So most warlocks become bloodthirsty, disrespectful of life, of all existence, even the gods. Their ways often clash with druidic doctrine.

How this half-orc, Ding Ding Little Axe, came to partner with a gentle female druid is a mystery. From the look of things, though, he didn't seem troubled at all—he was sitting in a corner, idly scratching himself.

"Hello." Nocturne approached Ding Ding Little Axe and greeted him warmly, but the half-orc warlock ignored him, sitting as if we weren't there.

"What's with him?" Snubbed, Nocturne frowned and asked the elf druid.

"He... he's lagging..." Fairy Descends, Faceplants replied awkwardly, then added something I didn't understand: "...he's on Netcom..."

"Oh..." Nocturne and Bull Million seemed to instantly grasp the meaning, but I was still baffled.

"Hel...lo..." Only then did Ding Ding Little Axe, in a slow, dreamy voice, utter his first word—a delayed response to Nocturne, but by the time he turned his head, the gnome bard had already moved elsewhere.

"...Brother, you have my sympathy. Connecting from Netcom to Telecom—that's no short trip..." Bull Million patted the half-orc's shoulder with genuine sincerity.

"...If you factor in the time difference... it’s farther than Earth to Mars..." After a long pause, Ding Ding Little Axe finally spoke again.

Netcom? Telecom? What were those? In this bat-infested cave, I could only guess they were two new species of vicious, giant vampire bats...

"So it's just you two? And he actually managed to make it here? That must've taken tremendous courage—and no doubt many, many deaths to reach this far!"

"Well... not just us. Actually... there were three others with us at first, all people he found to help him with a quest, but now... they've all left..."

So, amid Ding Ding Little Axe's frequent, always belated remarks, we pieced together their journey here from Fairy Descends, Faceplants’ hesitant account.

Besides being a warlock, Ding Ding Little Axe was an ambitious miner, more passionate about metallurgy than magic. Most of his experience up to level nine came from improving his mining skill.

Because of his mining prowess, he had taken on a miner’s quest: to search the abandoned mine’s depths for the lost hammer of Robert Wellanster, the Dwarf Master Smith, the mine’s original founder.

Including Fairy Descends (I preferred using her short name for convenience), four people had joined to help him complete his task. They had fought their way here, descended the great pit's walkways, and at the bottom, encountered a group of mysterious skeleton warriors. The four brave adventurers (with little help from the always-lagging Ding Ding Little Axe) fought off the undead and found Robert Wellanster's great hammer.

Just as they were celebrating their success, disaster struck.

As Ding Ding Little Axe bent to grasp the hammer, his fingers nearly touching the handle... he "disconnected."

That was the elf druid girl’s exact phrasing. I had no idea what profound meaning lay behind that seemingly simple term, but it suggested he was somehow unable to remain in this world—"disconnected"? Did Otherworlders walk a tightrope through the time-space maelstrom separating the planes?

Assailed by the skeletons, the four of them barely managed to drag Ding Ding Little Axe's rigid body back to the hall, and so the quest ended in failure. The other three seemed to lose heart, and when he finally "returned," they left the mine...

Though I didn’t understand everything Fairy Descends said, I gathered the gist and learned more about the Otherworlders’ plane-traveling limits: they couldn't act in this world without restriction, somehow tethered to a "net." Sometimes, their souls would be blocked by this net, unable to rejoin their bodies, leaving them sluggish and unresponsive—like Ding Ding Little Axe.

"You're truly kind, staying here to protect him..." Bull Million praised her sincerely after hearing her story, and I felt the same.

When a companion is a burden, unable even to fend for himself, yet this elf girl stayed by his side, braving bloodthirsty beasts to guard him—what courage and resolve that must take!

The elf druid blushed deeply, lowering her head in embarrassment at Bull Million’s frank praise. Her shy, radiant beauty was like a blue-flamed ghost grass blooming in the underworld, kindling a spark of magic in the soul.

Seeing her like that, we were all at a loss for words. Compliments caught in my throat; I could only stand there dumbly with my companions, staring at the lovely elf girl.

"...It's not kindness that made her stay..." Just as we realized our awkwardness, Ding Ding Little Axe finally, belated as always, spoke up with the truth.

"...She was about to level up and wanted to do it here before leaving, but after she leveled up, she realized she couldn't get me out by herself..."

"...I was touched. I told her to go on alone, not to worry about me..."

"...But the truth is... she was too scared to go alone..."

"...Because... she's afraid of the dark..."

"...She couldn't leave on her own, and wouldn't let me log out, insisting I stay online and talk to her so she wouldn’t be scared..."

"...She’s kept me here for over two hours, not even letting me nap. If you hadn’t come, I’d have collapsed..."

"...This is illegal detention... even the Chongqing Sino-American Cooperative’s torture couldn’t compare..."

"...Heroes, I beg you, save me... take her away..."

The elf girl’s head drooped even lower...