Jack reached the lower tier of the village. Here, the elven structures were more functional and less decorative.
He checked several tree-buildings there. Most of them were not that different from the ones on the higher elevation. They were less fancy and more practical, but they had a similar style.
However, after exploring for a while, he found himself standing before a structure that looked very different. This one was squat. Built more of heavy stone and dark metal rather than violet wood. Fused directly into the crook of a titan tree's branch.
He entered the building. An anvil of dark, metallic stone sat in the center. Bellows made of some thick, leathery hide hung to the side. Cracked and slightly damaged. Ash covered everything like a grey shroud. Obviously, this place was a smithy.
Jack activated his [Eyes of Judgment].
The world shifted. The grey ash became transparent in his sight. And the mundane objects around him were overlaid with data. Most of them were either junks, daily tools, standard weapons, or common materials.
However, near the back of the forge, he saw a glint of deep, metallic black object. It was under a collapsed wooden rack of common tools. The data shown by his sight told him that the object was... different.
Jack walked over and moved the debris aside.
He could see the object clearly now. It was a chakram, a circular throwing weapon. If this was the world from his previous life, the weapon should originate from India.
Jack observed the weapon. It was a perfect circle. About the size of a common dinner plate. With a handle in the center for a grip. The outer edge was wickedly sharp and was serrated with tiny teeth. Jack's enhanced vision could see were designed to tear through more than just flesh.
The metal it was made of wasn't iron or steel. It was denser, colder, and pulsed with a faint, rhythmic mana signature. It felt heavy. Far heavier than it looked. And the surface was inscribed heavily with ancient runes.
Jack picked it up. Focusing on his still activated [Eyes of Judgement]. The information panel of the object flickered to life in his mind's eye.
[Name: Scale Slicer Chakram]
[Grade: Epic]
[Durability: Extremely Tough (99%)]
[Special Ability: Sharp Edge, Wind Blade]
[Description: A masterwork of Dark Elven weapon craft. Overlaid with ancient runes designed specifically to penetrate the magical hides of the gigantic beasts and the thick scales of the great serpents in the Purplesky Realm.]
"Interesting." Jack murmured.
He turned the weapon over in his hand. It was heavy, yet perfectly balanced. This wasn't just a high-tier weapon. It was a precious artifact. A treasure.
He closed his eyes and focused his secondary class, the Treasure Hunter. The chakram was a treasure. And that class of his had the ability to gain inspiration from any treasure. Manifesting it as a usable spellcard.
A flash of purple light erupted from the chakram. Illuminating the slightly dark smithy. For a fraction of second, the air around Jack seemed to be whipped into a miniature Gale.
Then, the light condensed above the chakram. Flattening and hardening into a tarot-like card. A painting of rotating chakram could be seen on onw of its side.
Jack looked at the card.
[Spell Card: Wind Blade]
[Type: Evocation]
[Effect: Launches a sharp, circular wind blade that can penetrate any common shield. The blade travels at high speed and can be guided slightly by the caster's will.] [Requirement: Usable by any transcendent. Caster must possess a minimum Mysticism of 20.]
[Cooldown: 10 seconds per use]
Jack felt a surge of satisfaction. It was the second spellcard of the evocation type he gained after the [Soul Breaking Scream].
He looked at the [Scale Slicer Chakram]. It remained in his hand. Its physical form, quality, and ability were unchanged. But now he possessed its essence in a form he could use or even gift. Nice!
He tucked the card into his personal [Spatial Belt], and placed the chakram in his [Spatial Bag]. It was a good haul.
He looked out from the smithy platform across the swamp. The orange water bubbled. Far off in the distance, something large moved beneath the surface. Creating a long, slow ripple that vanished into the mist.
Jack felt it. The village was quiet. But it wasn't empty. It felt like a held breath.
"Rune!" Jack said softly.
Tiny Rune floated to his shoulder. She pulsed a deep, cautious yellow.
"Yeah..." Jack agreed. "I feel it too."
He turned and headed back up the spiral stairs. He needed to see what those professors had found in that diary. The Dark Elves hadn't just left because they were bored. They were either hiding from something, or they had been lured away by something. And for them, those two things often meant the same... danger.
When he reached the top, the atmosphere in the hub tree was tense. Professor Enderson was pale. His hands were shaking slightly as he pointed at a passage in the diary.
"Jack! You need to see this." The professor said. His voice was cracking. "We've translated the last entry."
"What is it?" Jack immediately asked.
Professor Enderson read his notes. "It says... The Purple Sky has opened its low, single eye. We are summoned into the deep. He calls. And the Dark Elves will come in response. We are the fuel for the coming dawn."
"The coming dawn?" Jack asked. His voice was cold. "There is no sun here."
"Exactly." Dr. Crafton whispered. "And the word 'fuel' here... It's ominous. They might not leave in peace. They might be... sacrificed."
Jack narrowed his eyes. A village taken by a 'calling'. He looked at the students and guards, who were watching him for a sign of what to do next. They had considered him the leader now. After his stunt of battling the horned serpent alone.
"Let's double the watch." Jack said decisively. "And nobody, under any circumstances, goes near the water alone. The dark elves were summoned into the deep. I assume it means the swamp, or the mist sea. Right?"
"Very likely." Professor Enderson agreed.
...
For three days afterward, the routine was monotonous. In a way, monotony was good. It meant no one died.
The students spent their hours doing their projects. Filling glass jars with glowing moss and strange, translucent insects. Walking the high branches with notebooks and special glasses. Scribbling down their observations about the 'mystic flow'.
Professor Enderson and Dr. Crafton, on the other hand, were obsessed with the diary Allena had found. They sat in a corner of the main hall. Surrounded by the bright [Self-illuminating Orbs], arguing over the nuances of the Crowelpe language.
"It's a metaphor." Dr. Crafton would say. "The 'deep' might refer to a state of consciousness."
"The dark elves weren't known as philosophers, Doctor." Professor Enderson would snap back. "They were practical. If they say they went into the deep, they went into the water. Besides, if it was a state of consciousness, their remains would still be here."
The academicians focused on their researches. The hired guards focused on watching over them. Guarding them from danger. That was what they were hired for.
The three days were pretty much safe. They hadn't encountered any hostile beasts at all. No danger. But that was what made Jack restless. He felt that it was the calm before the storm.
He spent most of his time checking the perimeter. He walked the suspension bridges that connected the titan trees. His boots silent on the violet wood.
Reina was usually not far away from him. She didn't say much. But she didn't need to. She knew Jack was on edge. And actually, she was similar.
"Something bad is coming, Dear. I could feel it." Reina said. They were standing on a lookout platform twenty meters above the orange swamp.
"I know, Love." Jack replied. He looked down at the swamp. The bubbling water was the color of a rotten orange. It looked ominous. "Let's keep our vigilance. A few more days. and we could return to Lonestone."
Rune, the tiny steamrune fairy, hovered near Jack's shoulder. Her body glowed a soft, steady green. It was her 'all-clear' signal.
Jack trusted her detection power. But Rune had her limitation. She could detect immediate fortune or danger. But she wouldn't be able to detect distant, yet approaching danger.
The other guards were definitely competent. They too sensed the trouble ahead. They kept their weapons sharp and their eyes open. But Jack had a bad feeling that the upcoming danger wasn't something they could face with standard weapons.
...
On the fourth night, the calm atmosphere broke.
It was night. Actually, it was what they calculated as night. There was no sun, moon, or stars in the realm's sky. So, the light never truly faded. It was always a bright purple color with with streaks of green.
But the air changed. The atmospheric pressure dropped so fast that Jack's ears popped.
He was in the main hall. Leaning against a carved pillar, watching the students sleep in their bedrolls. Reina was resting her head on his shoulder. Suddenly, a shout came from the balcony. It was one of the guards on watch.
"Wake up! Something happens to the swamp!"
Jack was moving before the sentence finished. He stepped onto the balcony. Reina was right behind him. The rest of the expedition scrambled out of their sleep. Groggy and confused.
The orange swamp was gone. In its place was a sea of undulating, neon purple. It wasn't just a reflection of the sky. The liquid itself had transformed.
It looked like liquid starlight. Boiling without heat. The faint, sweet floral smell of the swamp had been replaced by something sweeter. Sickeningly sweet.
"What is that?" Nick Glaiver whispered. Looking at one point in the deeper part of the swamp.
"Crap!" Jack swore. Looking at Rune who was glowing dark red. "Get back from the edge!" He warned the others.
But no one moved. They couldn't.
The purple swamp began to swirl. A vortex formed a kilometer wide. Drawing the glowing liquid into a massive, silent whirlpool. From the center of that drain, something began to rise.
It was a sphere. It was the size of a cathedral. Slick and glistening with purple slime. As it cleared the surface, it didn't splash. It rose with a predatory grace. It was a single, massive, lidless eye-ball. The pupil was a vertical slit of absolute darkness. Deeper than any shadow Jack had ever seen.
Then came the sound.
It wasn't a roar. It wasn't a scream. It was a soft melody. It sounded like a thousand glass harps being played by the wind. It was beautiful. The most beautiful thing Jack had ever heard.
It promised rest. It promised that the struggle was over. It told to go to the deep to acquire eternal tranquility...
===
If you, dear readers, enjoy the story, please share a review.
And if you are willing to support my work, please visit and join patreon.com/Alkrishna. It should be about 15+ chapters ahead there.
=====