A fuss was kicked up among the Adventurers who explored the underground.
Because of the Information Network, news of goblin camps and their threat levels rippled throughout the surface dwellers. They learned of their traits and confirmed a few legends of the past.
It so seemed that with the influx of explorers came an increasing awareness of the most common monster of the labyrinth: Goblins.
Athelei caught a piece of news saying that there were indeed mentions of little green men during the monster surge a hundred years ago. Many historians had wondered where they had gone, and now their questions had been answered.
The goblins were a problem because of their cunning nature. They knew the labyrinth like the back of their hand, utilising strategies only they could do. Even the knights had issues given that the goblins never fought them head-on. Their shining armour was a telltale sign for these little green rascals to distance themselves.
From what Athelei noticed through his nightly observations, the knights were in fact, the most harassed out of all the parties entering the labyrinth. The goblins seemed to strike them from the shadows, giving them a few injuries or taking some of their belongings before straight-up sprinting away through thin corridors and fissures.
It was difficult for the knights to react, and even harder for them to give chase. Many squads of knights had to return to the surface simply because half of them had lost their swords.
'The goblins have set their camps up in places where the humans must go through... It was the same for my experience with Irene.' Athelei scrolled through the Information Network as he sat at his desk.
'As for the Adventurers...' He recalled a few events he had watched from afar. 'It's like the two are archenemies. Every encounter turns into a scrappy, bloody skirmish.'
Athelei thought of a few possibilities as to why such an event kept ensuing. 'Could it be due to the less-intimidating aura of the Adventurers, as well as their tendency to ignore territorial lines? Are the Adventurers just more attractive to fight than the knights? If that thought works, then, could it mainly be because of the difference in armour?'
The Adventurers were not always clad in a full set of armour. Many of them wore leather tunics or thick cloth vests. Some also fancied robes and cloaks.
There was a great variety in what each Adventurer wore. Thus, Athelei had such an assumption.
'Easier to wound, easier to penetrate... And...' Athelei scrunched his brows, 'Reusable?'
His eyes lightened up as he thought of a possibility.
'Could the goblins be looking at the Adventurers the same way the humans look at them?' Athelei compared and contrasted the different types of armour and surmised that weight and material were the most likely factors that influenced their choices. The shining metal armour of the knights was too heavy for them, and on top of that, their camps clearly had no way to forge and mould iron.
'Could that be why they're just stealing their weapons instead too?'
Now, he wanted to head straight back to the underground just to see if any goblin camps had been busy looting. There were quite a few humans who had perished under their guerilla raids, so there theoretically should be enough materials.
But Athelei knew he could not do that. He had to be patient, and to distract himself from the giddiness of wanting to explore more of the underground kingdoms, he returned to the stacks of parchment floating around him.
Among those many pieces of writing material, there was a piece where only a handful of words were engrained onto its surface.
=o=o=o=o=
What is the connection between an Artist's intent and their Mystical Patterns? How are patterns discovered or invented in the first place?
What makes a pattern a Mystic Pattern and not a random drawing?
=o=o=o=o=
After watching Hyeon weave a majestic sequence full of Mystic Patterns he had never even seen before, Athelei had been blessed with inspiration. He had gained a few insights on why Mystic Patterns were patterns in the first place, as well as a few hundred questions to go along with it. In essence, he was able to take a great leap in his studies.
'The perspective of a genius is a magnificent boon for the perceptive.' Athelei thought as he pursed his lips and went back to studying.
Every now and then, he would reach to his side, where beautifully cut fruit was served on a ceramic plate. The soft crunch with every bite he took would resound among the droning scribbling sounds born from his ink and quill.
The Topaz-Essence Apricots were being put to good use in Athelei's corporeal body.
[]-[]-[]-[]-[]-[]
Dexterity: 8 -> 11
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The changes had occurred as the human side of an Endbringer did its job. Digestion and the absorption of energy through food consumption were the requirements to properly benefit from these tasty fruits.
'If only I could properly mimic the way the Undead Remnants consume life...' Athelei recalled the black crystals he still carried with him. His research on those cursed by undeath had been placed lower on the priority scale, but nonetheless, he was learning quite a bit.
Over the course of May and June, he had been able to figure out a rough estimation of how much an Undead Remnant needed to consume before it multiplied. Taking a step back, he also learned exactly how they even multiplied.
It was actually quite simple when there were external forces. All that had to happen was for the Undead Remnant to lose its black crystal. If it had consumed enough life, then condensing a second and more refined black crystal would be possible. The old crystal would then give birth to a new Undead Remnant when shattered.
If there were no external forces, it required the Undead Remnant to rid itself of its own black crystal voluntarily. This usually occurred when the Undead Remnant absorbed too much of a single type of life, forcing out any other foreign types for the sake of stability. It could also occur to Undead Remnants of chaos who had consumed a variety of lives, but at a much slower rate.
The chaotic Undead Remnants who multiply actually split their crystals when they do so. They could multiply like bursting slimes.
Hours went by as Athelei immersed himself in research, calligraphy, drawing, and mathematics. He had to go to the palace a few times just to borrow a few books here and there. The Lotus family's survival meant that their archives had similarly made it through. In fact, during the rebirth of Atlantis, their collection had been fortified and given grandeur.
It had become the city's main library while the actual main library had yet to be filled with knowledge.
In what coincidentally was his last visit, he encountered a familiar face just as he was leaving the library.
"Ah!" Athelei's sunny smile shone unto a man whose left hand was missing, "Master Weizhe, a pleasant afternoon!"
"Hm?" Lotus Weizhe took note of the little boy who had just emerged from his family's library. His expression was initially one of confusion, but as his eyes took notice of the boy's soft features, snowy complexion, and deep obsidian irises, his brows softened.
"Orien, was it? This should be our first meeting, yes?" Weizhe returned a smile that was more difficult not to return. He had heard of a few stories of the boy before him through Song and Xue. The intelligence, the wit, and the optimistic aura was a signature combination that had grown quite famous among the residents of Atlantis.
Athelei let out a soft laugh, "It is, Master Weizhe. If you don't mind, would you indulge me in a cursory chat? I have a couple of questions that are dying to be answered."
"A chat?" Weizhe echoed, "Very well. Let us walk and talk, young lad. As you might know, tomorrow's the day of our first attempt at exploration. There are a few things I have to finish up."
"Of course, of course, Master Weizhe. I shall match your pace." Athelei coated his body with a faint white light of Tangible Will and drifted through the waters like a ghost. Weizhe was rather surprised when he saw that and inwardly praised the young boy.
'Rank 1 Dictator! Could the recent tragedies have cemented his determination? I heard that he had also lost his hometown just a month or so before Avina was wrecked... Tough life at such an early age.' He thought to himself as he grasped just how admirable Athelei was. Keeping such high spirits despite all the death and destruction was simply a miracle to the survivors.
And thus, with a good impression of the young boy, Weizhe did well on his proposition of walking and talking,
"So, what would you like to ask?"