In the following week I have an insane income. With my hunter tag and a cheap sword, I hunt day and night. I hire supporters to drag the loot for me. The lack of respawning monster mean that people have to go deeper and deeper into the dungeon to supply the native populace with food. The local count issued a rationing system and many people meet in the morning and evening at the central plaza to receive the food distributed by the hunter’s guild.

As we have to deeper, many bail, especially around the 14^th floor when rapports of deaths started increasing drastically. In return, the guild raised request prices ever higher for its hunters.

The public situation was chaos. There had been talks about the lord having committed wrongdoings and being punished. People took to the streets and protested against “immoral” establishments, such as the bar, I lingered for, in fear of it having drawn the ire of God.

The local alchemist’s guild was torched and all of the potions broken and a few of them were even publicly hanged, or otherwise executed by anxious mobs, though I never witnessed it myself, I heard rumors.

The reason for this is that God has few rules in this world, the primary one being “Be fruitful and multiply”. The bar is accused of keeping virile men single and the alchemists condemned for their many blasphemous potions, some removing pregnancy, others preventing it.

The chaos eventually came to an end. One week passed and the monsters started reappearing. Many interpreted this as the faith and retaliation of its bastardization by the public caused God to take pity on them. They even have a figurehead, a mid-thirties woman called Ankia, who ranted about the people’s duty to bring forth children. It seems that she herself is a mother of eight. After the public outcry, it appears she has taken up some kind of cult leadership role and many look up to her as the savior of the situation.

I am and was in twain about revealing my perspective. My personal theory is that God used the powers of the dungeon to create this weird cape, or maybe just for her to manifest here, and it took some time for it to regain its powers. I was seriously concerned I might get lynched if I revealed I may have been the cause, so I have decided just to keep quiet.

Not wanting to stay here any longer, on account of the guilt for the current situation and actually profiting of it, the chance of running into Yorgar and Amina, making me feel bad once again and finally the bar I was so looking forward to having been forcibly closed down, I ready myself to travel to the capital.

Over the course of this one week, I made around 1500 asti. 200 of these, though, were paid as wages to various supporters, who helped carry my loot. Another 1000 went towards buying a high quality sword, presumably forged from that flavite thing I have heard a little about, as even though it appears mostly in a dull, metallic color, traces of yellow lines can be seen in it. I just hope I weren’t cheated.

I spend no money on armor, as it has a track record of being completely useless. I am incredibly sturdy, and I just end up losing it all the time. So, it ends up seeming like a fruitless expenditure. Even if people give me a weird eye, as I go to hunt monsters solo and with no armor. That’s part of the reason the supporters were so handsomely paid.

The capital seems to be far, far away. This will probably be the longest journey I have set out on. I remember the directions I received from the clerk at the guild.

I have to follow a certain road for two weeks to a small town called White Flats, from which I will have to travel along one of its main roads for another two weeks to a slightly larger town called Rachimov. Lastly, a full month’s journey alongside a road directly to the capital can be found from there. I wonder how little time I can cut this journey down to.

I also wonder if I should take a look around each city. Go on a little bit of tourist trip? That could be fun, though few resources in this world are dedicated to culture, and scarcely are they publicly available, so one might not have much to see.

Or at least, so I thought, but as I made my way to White Flats in just over a day, an impressive sight reveals the city’s namesake. Either side of the road, as far as the eye can see, the only thing visible before the ever-present fog occludes all is white, rugged stone. I also seem to feel a significant temperature drop as I enter this curious area.

I have lived in permanently the same temperature ever since I got here. The same day or night, every day, even in the dungeons, only occasionally slightly raised by the presence of fire. Therefore, it feel incredibly refreshing, experiencing such a phenomenon as “cold” for the first time in forever.

A city, with walls as white as the stone plains that surround it, gradually comes into my view.