The Archivist of the Collectanea’s face remained somewhat impassive despite watching the final remnants of the AUAF wage a grueling guerrilla war in the snow-covered terrain of the Machina Dominion against Acheron’s relentless regiments. Yet, he still let out a sigh of regret as he closed the large book in his hands.
Not because of the end of the Age of Light and the beginning of the Age of Loss.
Not because of the regression of technology and magic.
Not because of the murder of the Royal Family of the Archaeodom United Armed Forces.
And not because humanity has once more begun to fight amongst itself.
For he knew that humanity would endure. They always did. After all, he was the first before he ascended.
He was not regretful because of chaos spreading across Archaeodom. He was regretful that this chapter of humanity ended so early and that he never saw what could’ve been. The knowledge they would discover and the tales that would occur.
However, it wasn’t all lost. They would regress, then they would relearn, and then they would progress to a new high before falling into an even deeper valley of regression.
It was a cycle, one that has been fulfilled since his birth and ascension. Each cycle gives him more tales to catalog with each being completely unique from the other.
Still, he was particularly interested in this cycle. It was a shame that this one ended so early, lasting only eight centuries before collapsing. Unlike the Phoenix Alliance which lasted nearly two millennia before it collapsed due to a fallen god invading.
While the Phoenix Alliance’s collapse was a tragedy, a group of heroes who had not lost their way falling to fell a god, the AUAF could’ve been… should’ve been better.
Everything went their way, out of all the cycles they had the best technology, the best knowledge of magic, the strongest soldiers, and the most knowledgeable populace.
Except, of course, there were those who despised those factors. People like Acheron who wish to hoard all the technology and knowledge for themselves.
The sounds of footsteps filled the ears of the Archivist’s current magical projection despite the sporadic gunfire coming from the battle nearby. Several millennia of experience from the memories of the fallen filled his mind combined with his own, allowing the Archivist to identify that the footsteps came from one of his Bibliothecs. The Bibliothec of the Divisio Gammaiel to be exact.
How peculiar.
He thought that the Bibliothec of the Divisio Deltaharis would’ve come instead. After all, most of his Bibliothecs only begrudgingly assisted him in his goals with only the Bibliothec of the Divisio Deltaharis having a somewhat amicable relationship with him.
Though, internally, he congratulated the Gammaiel Bibliothec for he managed to sneak up on him and forced him to temporarily inherit the memories of billions of soldiers in order to identify him.
And wouldn’t that be concerning to the people of Archaeodom, that a man despite being nearly three and a half meters tall could sneak up on even the best of humanity.
The Archivist lightly chuckled to himself, they would definitely be terrified that the Gammaiel Bibliothec was not a specialist in stealth but rather in frontline combat. Hence why the Gammaiel Bibliothec was in full power armor that despite its futuristic appearance, still held the heraldry of a knight from a kingdom long forgotten. From afar, a soldier might mistake him for a regular man in plate but up close there was no hiding the minute humming of a Vaporhil generator.
But he was digressing, there was a more pressing question in this current situation after all. Why was the Gammaiel Bibliothec here in the first place?
“High Archivist.” The Gammaiel Bibliothec greeted him reluctantly.
The Archivist nodded, “You’ve come here to report something interesting.” It was a statement, not a question because that was the only reason that the Archivist could think of that would force the Gammaiel Bibliothec to be in his presence rather than sending one of his men.
The Gammaiel Bibliothec sighed, “Correct, Dolus’s forces are somewhat aware of the Collectanea’s existence, they’ve successfully managed to remove four of our field operatives stationed in his inner circle.”
The Archivist raised his eyebrows and turned to face the Gammaiel Bibliothec.
“That is concerning. Do you know how?”
“In one of his usual purges, his agents managed to intercept one of our couriers, and the message implicated our field operatives. However, the courier managed to activate Grayscale Protocols, to prevent full knowledge of our existence. Dolus currently believes we’re most likely part of the AIA or a remnant of the Archaeodom Intelligence Agency.”
“I see.” The Archivist turned back to face the warzone, “Inform our field operatives to go into deep cover and only listen to orders from Continental Commanders and above.”
“Understood.” Despite the acknowledgment of the Archhvist’s orders, the Gammaiel Bibliothec didn’t move.
There was a period of silence between the Bibliothec and the Archivist, only the sounds of the harsh winds and the battle were heard. The Archivist’s trench coat fluttered around as the wind blew against him. The smell of gunpowder and the distinct feeling of mana being manipulated by the mages from both armies permeated the air.
“If you give the order, my Divisio will march to war and crush Dolus’s forces.” The power armor-wearing man said quietly, barely audible to even the Archivist’s ears through the harsh winds.
The Archivist sighed and put his hands in his coat pockets, “That is not necessary. If this is the path that humanity has chosen, then it is the path that they shall walk.”
And the two watched. They watched until a whole month had passed and Dolus’s forces were finally forced to retreat through the Alliance’s desperate tactics.
And they watched as Dolus’s forces detonated a Mana Bomb forcing the Windtian Mountain into eternal winter.
Hammer met steel.
The steel bent under the hammer’s continuous assault.
Slowly, the steel was shaped into something new.
It was a simple blade. Nothing special was put into its creation, no enchantment or rare material, it was just a steel blade without a hilt.
Wiping off the sweat from his brow, Rylian let out a sigh of relaxation. That blade was the last of today’s orders.
All that was left was to quench the blade.
Carefully as to not drop or ruin the blade, Rylian made his way over to one of his barrels filled with water and slipped the blade in.
“Should probably go change,” Rylian muttered as he took a moment to inspect himself.
Rylian wore a pair of goggles over his blond hair, that he deigned to occasionally put on so as to not get his eyes pierced by a stray piece of metal or something asinine. He was confident in his abilities to craft weapons and armor, but it was better to be safe than sorry. And despite not having been a questor for about a decade or so, he still wore his questing equipment from all those years ago. Which consisted of brown and gray military fatigues, a complete Machina Exoskeleton layered over a bulletproof vest and the gladius that he forged to complete his apprenticeship attached to his waist.
He was about to go upstairs to his little apartment above his forge before he heard the light tinkling of the bell above his forge’s entrance.
Rylian turned to face the stairs and then turned to where his potential customer would be waiting before letting out a soft curse and moving to greet whoever entered. Letting out a small ouch as the thorny bracelet that he wore on his wrist cut him slightly.
“Welcome to Wanderer’s Forge, how can I help you?” Rylian asked with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, which wasn’t much. Especially because he spent so much time making all the orders from yesterday. The swords were easy enough but forging (or rather reforging) a Dreadnought’s Shield was annoying especially considering its massive size.
But he digressed.
Internally, Rylian began to scream because it was not one potential customer who walked in, but four.
And judging from their clothing and rather unique appearances, they were questors. Which were always a hassle to deal with, Rylian much preferred dealing with the town militia and guard. It was a questor after all that commissioned the gigantic Dreadnought’s Shield which was like two towershields stapled together.
“Hello, are you the blacksmith here?” The lead girl asked rather pleasantly, who Rylian presumed to be the unit leader. She fit the mold for how he envisioned a knight would look like. A blue-eyed and blond-haired woman with her hair tied into a ponytail.
She was even in plate mail albeit one supported by an exoskeleton. One based on a very rare and expensive exoskeleton, one that set the standards, before becoming a relic unable to be fully reproduced.
An AUAF exoskeleton was apparently used by even their basic soldiers, but it still outclassed all the current exoskeletons that the current nations of the world were producing. Although this one was definitely old and not maintained well, the proper equipment to clean these things was also lost meaning manual cleans were the way to go.
However manual cleans can only do so much as parts such as the composite polyester that let the exoskeleton be as maneuverable as they were had to be regularly replaced, otherwise, they’d weaken the entire structure, and again… the method to make these things were lost.
Hence why the one she wore was only partially based on an AUAF exoskeleton. But the basic mechanics are still the same, just with worse materials.
And she also looked like she never actually fought in her life or at least never fought in a true fight, considering how clean her equipment was and the lack of scratches and other signs of use.
Wait, damn it. He lost himself in his thoughts again.
“Yeah, I’m the blacksmith here,” Rylian said after a brief pause, “My name’s Rylian. How can I help?”
One of the girls behind the unit leader harrumphed rather quietly. Quietly to regular civilians anyway, to someone like Rylian who still kept some of his instincts sharp, it was quite audible.
He immediately put her on his ‘probably annoying’ list.
The girl was clad in a dark gray cloak with golden highlights complimenting her silver hair which was kept short. The cloak stopped around her waist and seemed to be made out of a composite fabric Rylian had no knowledge of. It was probably something new tha the had yet to catch up with.
She also had a book strapped to her waist alongside some tinkering and alchemic equipment. There wasn’t any mana emanating from her book that Rylian could detect, so it was probably filled with her own personally developed blueprints and there was only one country that had its questors do that.
The Machina Dominion.
Rylian hated that gods damned place. The people there were paranoid at the best of times, although there were a few actually decent people.
And they even started allowing mages, albeit with government oversight. And looking at the girl’s waist which had a cyan badge on it, she was one. Although it was curious that she didn’t have a focus or spellbook on her.
Thankfully, the girl and guy to the left of the Machina-born girl looked like they actually had some experience.
The guy’s armor was the basic armor that the Archeo-Defense Guild gave to those that passed its initial tests. It wasn’t bad or anything, it was better than the leather armor that the militiamen get, as they were made of a composite fiber that was basically a flak jacket combined with some light metals.
But it was just that, flak armor. It was decent enough against firearms and slashes, but against anything else it was practically useless.
The kid was clearly nervous as his brown eyes darted everywhere, but there was also a hint of wonder in his eyes as well. An up-and-coming questor perhaps?
But there was that wooden rifle the kid was holding which was clearly well-maintained. It was polished but there were still scratches and a very minor dent near the barrel as if he’d dropped it before. Maybe the kid was part of his town’s militia as a volunteer and helped fight off a group of slimes or wolves or any other common monster or wild animal. There was also a sword sheathed on his right, but Rylian didn’t get to take a glimpse of it.
The girl on the other hand seemed to actually have some military experience. Namely the fact that she wore a set of camouflaged body armor which Rylian admittedly doesn’t wear himself. She was also obviously the ranged specialist of the unit as she carried a large military-grade sniper rifle on a sling behind her back. Her short hair also matched the camouflage clothing she wore, dark green to be exact.
All of them, thankfully, wore backpacks filled with survival equipment and emergency supplies which for some reason unbeknownst to Rylian, most beginners didn’t carry on their person.
The first rule of survival is to be prepared.
The unit leader nodded her head, “I’m Rayleigh,” She introduced herself and pulled out a clean cobalt badge, “We heard you were the best blacksmith in town and had experience with being a questor from the guild advisor, so would it be fine if we bought or commissioned a few items and asked a few questions?”
Okay. The fact that Agapi, the primary ADG advisor in town, of all people who hated him for rightfully pulling away the thin veil of heroism that questing had, recommended him of all people meant that this unit was probably created on such short notice and was so green that they were probably going to turn into a trainwreck.
His old fireteam fit that bill a long time ago, but they managed to survive. Somewhat.
The fact that she called him the best blacksmith in town did give him a great ego boost though.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m pretty free right now. Just tell me what you want to buy first and I’ll answer while I’m getting it.”
“Mmm,” The unit leader nodded again and put away the questor’s badge before turning toward their sniper, “Geniveria, what did you need again?”
Geneveria put her sniper rifle on the counter Rylian was standing behind, “Do you have any frost rounds that’d work with this?”
Rylian hummed as he picked up the sniper rifle and began to inspect it. Like he thought when he first took a glance at it, it was a model designed for military usage rather than for any militia member or guard to use. To be exact, it was a Branddækning 92 model, which while wasn’t completely outdated, was slowly being filtered out for the newer Brandvagt 63. Still, it was a beautiful piece of technology, albeit one that the AUAF would’ve considered as nothing more than a peashooter despite the fact that it combined the power of a .50 BMG round with the flexibility of a semi-automatic marksman rifle.
But that’s just the ridiculousness of the AUAF for you. They had their regular infantry equipped with advanced gauss rifles that were basically infantry-scaled tank cannons with the ability to pierce through light tanks and to add to that they also had the capability to be fully automatic which meant that an entire squad of riflemen could entrench themselves like a heavy weapons team.
There’s a reason why the AUAF preferred to use power armor and mechs over tanks.
Well, the AUAF’s Ignis Operci assault rifle has been lost to time for quite a while now, so this is what the world has to work with.
“It’s a nice rifle, well-maintained too.” Rylian put the rifle back down on the counter, “Do you want regular frost crystal imbued .50 BMG rounds or the more costly Vaporhil tipped .50 BMG rounds?”
The eyes of the Machina-born girl widened, “You have access to Vaporhil?” She yelled.
The other members of her unit seemed to be unaware of its significance, even the unit leader, which was surprising as he thought she was part of the nobility.
And only the ancestors know how many rare materials the nobility waste on random frivolities.
“Yup, I have a few connections in the Machina Dominion, Rashiel Republic, and many other places I’m too lazy to name. I have quite the inventory.” Rylian said smugly.
Besides, just because he still had access to Vaporhil, doesn’t mean that he still has to pay a large sum of cash for it. At best, he gets a ten percent discount from Avarice for rare minerals and a fifteen percent discount from Ceol and Eclipse for rare plants or other biological material.
The free drinks from Ceol were nice though.
“Um, what’s Vaporhil?” The brunette guy, and the only guy in the unit, asked.
“A highly reactive–” Rylian began before being interrupted by the silver-haired girl.
“A highly reactive substance, typically in a crystalline form found in the Windtian mountain. It’s known for its azure color and glow, alongside its main property which,” she turned to glare at Rylian, “Is extremely dangerous if not activated or contained properly.”
“What she said,” Rylian said blandly. The silver-haired girl seemed smug, but Rylian continued, “Although she did forget two important things.” Now she looked pissed, but that only really made Rylian want to continue, “First, Vaporhil is or rather was used in power armor as a power source hence its rarity as scientists and mages attempt to try and figure out how it was used in power armor. The second is its natural effect, which when it comes into contact with a biological surface, it explodes and turns anything within five feet of it into liquid.”
The guy looked confused and Rylian was too until he realized that technically a regular .50bmg round could do so as well.
“I mean that literally, your body is transformed into a mix of water, minerals and vaporhil fragments. A Vaporhil tipped .50 BMG round doesn’t work to the same extent, but it still affects the point of contact and about a four inch radius around it. It’s extremely painful and could easily knock down a dragon if those things still existed.” He would’ve crossed his arms but the thorny bracelet kinda would prick him if he did so.
The guy gulped. As for the sniper…
Her eyes were shining.
“How much?” The green-haired girl asked excitedly.
“One gold Stater per bullet.”
The jaws of the entire party dropped, except for Nikeol, Geniveria looked catatonic. It was as if Rylian had told her that she had lost her entire family fortune.
“I– I think we’ll just go for the regular frost rounds then sir.”
Rylian nodded and began to open up a nearby display case full of ammunition, “It’s about five bronze Staters each, so how much do you want?”
Geniveria blinked and shook her head, “A pack of fifty will work.”
“Got it. Three gold Staters, one iron Stater and ten bronze Staters.” Geniveria handed him the coins which Rylian quickly counted and once affirming that the number was correct placed the coins in a cash register before handing over the pack of ammo.
“Anything else?”
The blonde knight seemed to get her head back on straight, “We’re hunting a…” She paused and pulled a tablet from her backpack, “A group of three burdenbeasts and later a pestilent. Do you have any advice on how to deal with those.”
Rylian hummed. Back when he was part of a questor’s unit, he had dealt with both creatures before.
Burdenbeasts were just genetically modified horses that didn’t take the experience of experimentation very well. They were completely rabid, attacking wildly at anything that comes across them. The only thing that questors had to watch out for was the fact that they were horses, and horses can be deadly with their kicks and charges which in all actuality, was pretty dangerous even if they were alone.
Especially for new cobalt questors whose bodies haven’t yet matched the standard of a copper-ranked questor.
Or in other words, they were still regular humans in terms of frailty unlike the one-rank-higher copper questors whose bodies were now being strengthened and refined to begin to match their predecessors.
Humans back in the AUAF days were horrifyingly strong.
But in any case, all you had to do was keep your distance and make them come to you rather than you coming to them. Something that this fireteam’s sniper would be handy at.
As for the pestilent…They weren’t particularly hard, but a pestilent was known for ending a would-be questor’s journey early with their ambush tactics. Merchants also despised those undead because they made everything and everyone around them sick, this included foodstuffs which would begin to rot very quickly. Even veteran questors were sick of these things. Thing is, they were surprisingly intelligent and oftentimes acted more like spiders. So long as you left them alone, then they’d leave you alone, but when they did become aggressive, oh boy did they get aggressive.
A questor’s best bet for dealing with these things was to set a trap, probably using some rotting meat as bait, and then ambush it before it ambushes you. Because otherwise, you probably were going to have to get your tendons and your ankles healed.
Which is what he told the questor unit, albeit more much abridged.
Most of them nodded along with the exception of Silver-hair who was too busy glancing at his other works.
“In short, try to get them to come to you. Don’t go hunting for them, you’ll only get into more trouble that way. The number one thing I tell newbies is to keep your heads on straight and never stop watching your back.”
The fireteam nodded in unison, even silver-hair nodded.
“Alright, is there anything else?” Rylian asked while attempting to show any signs of fatigue.
“None at all,” The blondie smiled and bowed, “Thank you, Rylian.”
Rylian waved them off, “No problem, come back if you need anything else.”
The questor unit after respectively saying their goodbyes hastily left his forge to go complete their quest.
And as soon as they went out of earshot, Rylian loudly sighed.
“They seem fine to me, only person I dislike so far is the Machina girl. I’ll just go bother Agapi about it later.” Rylian then shrugged to himself and began to close up shop.
Rylian’s Questor Compendium:
“The good ol’ Pestilent. Those guys. Honestly, I rate them a good three out of five on the ‘What is Nature Smoking’ list. When I first heard of these guys, I figured they were going to be a beginner necromancer’s summon but it turns out a good chunk of these guys were created naturally by the world.
They’re basically spiders in that they consume a lot of the smaller annoying pests out in the wild or rather they cause things to rot in order to gain energy. They’re typically attracted to things that are already rotting so they're basically the big-boy decomposers. Don’t piss ‘em off 'cause they’re pretty chill, but if you be sure to check your shadow.”
“Avoiding the Machina Dominion is one of my main pieces of advice for new questors. They’re all highly paranoid of foreigners even with the new council in place, don’t be surprised if a literal riot begins because they think you’re the one that vandalized someone’s shop by scratching intimidating messages to the owner’s wife when in all actuality it was caused by the shop’s drunken owner at 4:18 in the morning doing it because he had discovered that his wife was having an affair with the mayor, who was also married.
Admittedly this paranoia of foreigners is somewhat justified due to their past, but c’mon they’ve gotta let go of it someday.”
-Rylian Quinn, Retired Questor
