The Gate Traveler-Chapter 21B6 - : Dungeon Illogic Strikes Again

To get to our suite, we took an elevator—here called a Rising Platform. It was a round disk, big enough to hold ten people comfortably, enclosed in a clear glass tube that ran up the building. Al waved a token in front of a round metal plate, and the platform shot upward without a sound. I could feel the runes in the metal plate and the platform we stood on activate. Little clumps of mana clustered together, but I couldn’t see a single one. Ugh. Enchanters and their obsession with secrecy.

Don’t they know that sharing is caring?

When we got to our suite, I wasn’t as surprised as I probably should have been. After the mall, I was already braced for core-space shenanigans. The massive suite was larger than any house I’d ever lived in. The living room stretched out almost endlessly, with polished marble floors, high ceilings, and crystal chandeliers spaced evenly along its length. Deep green couches framed two large glass coffee tables with dark carved legs. The cushions were thick, the upholstery soft, and everything was arranged with deliberate symmetry. Farther in, two sets of armchairs stood around tables near a bar stocked with an assortment of bottles. Beyond them stood a massive dining table surrounded by eighteen chairs, and the room ended in a floor-to-ceiling window.

The suite had three bedrooms, all styled similarly. The walls were pale with carved panels, and the biggest bed I’d ever seen stood in the center under a high, recessed ceiling. It had a white canopy with sheer fabric gathered at the top and gold detailing on the headboard and frame. It could sleep five people with no one touching. The bedding was soft and heavy, with a mound of pillows in cream and pastel tones. A full-length mirror stood near another floor-to-ceiling window, surrounded by delicate gold trim.

The bathroom continued the same design. It was spacious, with a freestanding tub I could swim in set into the center and soft lighting above and below. The floor and counters were made of smooth, cream-colored stone. Round ceiling lights framed in gold hung overhead, and smaller glass sconces added extra glow around the mirrors. A low, quilted stool sat by the vanity, and the shelves held bottles and folded towels.

But the real surprise wasn’t the furniture or the size. It was the little Earth-style touches I didn’t expect. There was a proper shower with hot water and strong pressure, big enough to fit ten people without getting familiar. The shower, bathtub, and sink had faucets, not runes. The lighting fixtures ran on mana but used actual wall switches. Runed, yes, but switches all the same. The only disappointment was that the runes were hidden beneath the surfaces. I could sense them layered under the materials, but there was nothing to study.

Enchanters and their secrecy.

Well, I thought I was surprise-proof right until I looked out the window. The suite was at least twenty stories above the street. The actual building was maybe four stories tall. We were in the spire? Seriously? I scratched my head. Yeah, maybe I’d been a little too judgmental about the architecture. If they could fit this suite into the spire, maybe those things weren’t a total waste of materials after all.

When I returned to the living room, I found Al and Mahya at the bar, sniffing various bottles. Mahya uncorked one, took a cautious sniff, and wrinkled her nose. Al held another to the light, squinting at the thick liquid inside.

“What are you doing?” I asked, eyeing the growing lineup of open bottles.

“Inspecting the goods,” Mahya said, glancing at me with a grin. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

She grabbed a bottle with a dark, gloppy liquid and poured a small amount into a crystal glass. The stuff oozed out, thick and black as tar.

I took a sip and instantly gagged, spitting it back into the glass. “What the hell?!”

It tasted like someone had mixed extra-sweet cough syrup with battery acid and added a splash of something bitter to keep things exciting. My tongue recoiled. Al winced in sympathy.

“I told you Earth’s alcohol is the best,” Mahya said, leaning back against the bar with a grin.

“Yeah, but lately we have to drink an entire bottle of whiskey just to get a five-minute buzz,” I said, setting the glass down and wiping my tongue with the back of my hand.

“Al’s working on it.”

I looked at him. “You are? How’s it going?”

Al raised one hand and gave a hesitant side-to-side motion. “Worse than I expected, unfortunately. Lis’s collection only contains additives that rely on hallucinogenic compounds to replicate the necessary effect. Given your opposition to drugs, I could not use them. I remain hopeful that the collection I acquired in the cultivators’ world will yield a suitable recipe, but I have not found one yet.”

“Yeah, no drugs,” I said, waving that idea off with a grimace.

I joined them in checking out the bottles, hoping at least one wouldn’t taste like regret in liquid form. No such luck. They all smelled awful, some like rotting fruit, others like varnish, and somehow tasted even worse. Still, they had one undeniable advantage over the stuff we’d been drinking lately: they worked.

We barely took tiny sips from each bottle, just a taste, but it hit hard. By the end, we were completely shitfaced. Not tipsy. Not pleasantly buzzed. Totally trashed.

I had no idea how I got to bed. I just woke up there, fully dressed, boots and all, lying upside down across the mattress with my feet on the pillows. At least I didn’t have a hangover. So maybe the flavor was an acceptable price for effectiveness.

When I stumbled out of the room, still half-asleep, it took me a second to realize something was off. This wasn’t my room. I’d fallen asleep in Mahya’s.

I wandered into the main area and found Al passed out on the floor next to the dining table, feet propped up on a chair. There was no sign of Mahya.

“Rue?” I asked, rubbing my face. “You seen Mahya?”

“Al room.”

She wasn’t in the aforementioned room. I eventually found her asleep in his bathtub.

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Yeah, the alcohol here was very effective.

I left the two drunkards to sleep it off and waved to Rue. “Come on, buddy, let’s find some breakfast.”

Thankfully, Al had given me a token the night before so I could activate the elevator. We crossed the street, walked into the mall, and I froze. We were standing at the beginning of the mall, in the food section.

What the hell?

I turned around and looked out. Same street we came from. Okay. We walked a few meters farther in, just past the bakery, and I returned to the entrance.

Different.

It wasn’t the same street we had just come from. Not the one we’d entered from yesterday either. I stared at it, then at Rue, then back again. Nope. Definitely not the same. I rubbed my face, regretting not drinking coffee before leaving the suite. Dungeon shenanigans were breaking my brain.

“John promise breakfast,” Rue grumbled.

“Soon, buddy. I need to check something.”

I walked to the next exit, just past the clothes section. Another unfamiliar street. Checked the one after the kids’ section. Still nothing I recognized. Finally, in the middle of the metal section, I peered out and spotted the hotel across the street.

Okay. So at least the exits stayed put. Sort of.

We made our way back to the food section, and I picked the busiest café I could find. More people usually meant better food.

A server walked past, balancing three plates on one arm. I flagged him down. “Can my familiar eat here with me, or is there a specific section for that?”

“You can sit in the main thoroughfare, not inside,” he said without missing a beat, already moving toward another table.

Good enough.

I found a table just outside the café’s main entrance and took a seat. Rue flopped down beside me, his tail already wagging in anticipation. I ordered their best breakfast, four of them, and asked for coffee. My language skill translated it to Orbos, but it was close enough.

The food arrived on wide, flat plates: a golden, steaming pie made of layered dough, each layer thinner than paper, with a light, buttery, flaking crust. The filling was savory, made of eggs, soft cheese, and seasoned vegetables. Rue inhaled his first plate but still felt the need to inform me, “Pie great. Veggies not.”

I ignored him and sipped the Orbos. It was a thick, hot, yellow drink that smelled almost like hot chocolate, but not quite. The taste was nothing like coffee and reminded me of allspice. Whatever it was, it packed a serious kick. It was like an energy drink on steroids, only without the jitters.

After the breakfast that cost seven gold, we headed back to the metal section. This time, I paid more attention to the weapon stalls. My favorite swords from Lis needed some TLC. I still couldn’t recognize the metal, even after all the worlds I’d traveled, and they had one incredibly annoying peculiarity. I’d tried enchanting them with durability and sharpness runes, but couldn’t even scratch the surface to inscribe them. On the other hand, after all the dungeon runs they’d been through, they had lost some sharpness and picked up quite a few nicks. And the most frustrating part? The Restore spell didn’t work on them. When I channeled the spell, nothing happened. The mana just dissipated into the air like I was casting on empty space.

In the metal section, I discovered something interesting. Unlike the rest of the mall, where the center stalls operated independently and were unrelated to the stores, here, the shops used them as display areas. Some stores added small front sections for extra displays, but most of the space in the back focused on crafting.

When I reached the weapons area, I tried to judge the blacksmiths' level of expertise by the weapons on display. But I quickly realized I had no idea what I was looking at. All the weapons looked good to me—or at least good enough—and I couldn’t tell the difference between decent work and true craftsmanship.

Instead, I pulled out my swords, earned a startled yelp from a passerby, and stepped into the first shop I saw. A young guy stood behind a narrow glass display case filled with daggers, polishing one.

“Hello,” I said, holding up a sword. “Do you do repairs or just sell new weapons?”

He gave me that look. “Of course we do repairs.”

I handed over both swords and explained what needed fixing. He listened, nodded once, then disappeared into the back without a word. Less than three minutes later, he returned, holding the swords like they were cursed. “The master doesn’t work with infused weapons.”

My swords were infused? Huh. Good to know—whatever that meant.

“Can you tell me who does?”

He gave me the name of another shop, and I headed off in that direction.

The shop he sent me to looked different from the others. Instead of a glass display case, the weapons hung on the walls, each one carefully spaced behind a glowing shield formation about half a meter out. The store was also completely deserted.

I stepped closer to get a better look at a sword, and the formation flared to life, pushing me back a few steps.

“I’ll be with you in a few moments,” a female voice called out from somewhere in the back.

When the blacksmith finally stepped into view, I froze, mouth slightly open. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen—and also the last person I would’ve expected to be a blacksmith.

She was petite, maybe a meter and a half tall at most, with a heart-shaped face and light amber eyes that leaned so close to gold they almost glowed. Almond-shaped and sharp, those eyes watched everything. A small, button nose and full lips gave her a delicate, almost doll-like appearance, and a thick braid trailed down her back all the way to her hips. She looked like she belonged in a palace, not a forge—like some Egyptian or Indian queen who’d stepped out of a painting and into a weapons shop.

She looked me up and down, taking her time, then smiled. “Hello, handsome. How can I help you?”

My mouth snapped shut. Still speechless, but at least I had the presence of mind to take out my swords.

The moment she saw the swords, her eyes lit up, and somehow, she looked even more stunning. She stepped closer, her expression shifting from polite interest to genuine admiration. “Beautiful craftsmanship,” she murmured, taking one sword. She turned it over slowly, her fingers gliding along the edge. Her brows furrowed slightly as she studied the blade. “You didn’t feed them enough,” she said, almost offhandedly. “So they became brittle.”

That finally jump-started my brain.

“I didn’t know I had to feed them,” I admitted, reaching up to rub the back of my neck. The motion reminded me of Malith, and I froze halfway through. I dropped my hand and added, “I don’t even know what feeding them means.”

She looked up, one brow raised. “The artisan who made them didn’t explain?”

“I got them as a gift from a friend,” I said, shrugging.

She nodded thoughtfully and hummed to herself, then reached for the second sword and inspected it just as carefully. “Did he give you the attuned stones?”

I blinked. “I have no idea what you’re asking.”

Without a word, she pulled a small knife from her belt, sliced through the leather strip wrapped around the pommel, and carefully unwrapped it. Holding the sword close, she examined the pommel, did something, and popped it open into two parts.

Inside, the upper section of the sword extended into half the pommel, but the other half was hollow.

She pointed to the empty space. “You need an attuned mana stone here. The sword draws from it when needed. But it’s been starved for too long, so that won’t help anymore. I’ll need to saturate it first.”

I stared at her. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She gave a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m used to dealing with people in my field. You’ll need a wizard to attune mana stones to the swords. Once you have them, I’ll handle the rest.”

I switched my class to Wizard and pulled out a mana crystal. “Is this a mana stone?”

She gave me a puzzled look but nodded slowly.

“And when you say attuned, do you mean it needs to match the aspect of the blade?”

“Now I don’t understand,” she said, brows drawing together.

“Can you show me an attuned stone?”

She turned to leave.

“Wait—also show me what it’s attuned to.”

She looked even more confused but didn’t argue. A few minutes later, she came back holding a mana crystal and a dagger. I didn’t even need to touch them. The resonance between the two was obvious through my mana sense. The crystal and the blade shared the same aspect, humming in tune with each other.

“Got it,” I said, nodding.

Now she looked at me like I’d completely lost my mind. It was disheartening. I was used to that look—every Traveler probably was. Just not from gorgeous women.

Oh well, it is what it is.

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