The Gate Traveler-Chapter 34B5 - : A Dead World

When we returned to Zindor, it was still cold, but the sky was a clear blue with occasional fluffy white clouds. Checking the Map, the forest stretched endlessly in every direction. We trudged through the sea of green for a few hours, but after being attacked twice by those annoying flying snakes and once by an animal that looked like a donkey—ears and all—only with massive claws and predatory teeth, we’d had enough. That thing was one nasty bugger, braying as it lunged at us. Weird shit. Mahya climbed onto Rue, Al got on my back, and we took to the air, flying above the trees.

High above, Al switched to the flying sword, and we continued this way until Rue ran low on mana. This particular forest was so dense that even after over four hours of flight, we still couldn’t find a clearing large enough to launch the balloon. The cycle of flying and landing stretched on for two and a half days.

By the afternoon of the third day, it started to rain while we were airborne. I opened my house, and we hunkered down to wait out the rain—which dragged on for another five days. It didn’t rain nonstop, but the breaks were so short that trying to fly again didn’t seem worth it. During this forced stop, we examined the Map in its “zoom” mode and spotted a straight line cutting through the forest. All of us crossed our fingers, or the front paws in the case of Rue, hoping it was a road. It didn’t run in the direction we were heading, more parallel to it, but I held onto a strong hope that it would be wide enough to launch the balloon.

It took us another day of flying, with stops, to reach it. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a narrow road—about the size of a one-lane road in each direction back on Earth—with tree canopies arching over it from both sides. It was made of the same mustard-yellow material as the other roads we’d seen, but the good news was that this one was in much better condition, with fewer cracks, pits, and overgrowth.

We switched to the Jeep and followed the road, searching for an open space. Occasionally, we had to store the Jeep and navigate sections on foot where the road was too ruined, but it was still an improvement. Here and there, we passed by ruined vehicles, half-buried in the soil and tangled in vines and other plants. Mahya and I examined one closely and concluded it was some type of sports car—or at least that’s what we guessed. It was shaped like a bullet, had two seats, one behind the other, and the “wheel” was unlike anything I had ever seen. Instead of a steering wheel, it had a stick you pushed in the direction you wanted to go. The stick even moved backward, so we figured they didn’t use a reverse gear, controlling direction entirely with the stick. It was fascinating and strange all at once.

Mahya stored it for the metal, along with some other dead vehicles we found. She had to enlarge her Storage but handled it much better than I ever did.

“It doesn’t give you vertigo when you look into it?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it vertigo. There’s a strange feeling, like I’m a tiny ant staring into something endless, but I’ve gotten used to it. The utility makes it worth it.”

I disagreed but kept it to myself.

While driving on the road, I had an idea and asked the wind if any dungeons were nearby. There weren’t. This time, though, I was being smarter. I asked the wind to keep searching in our vicinity and to notify me if she found anything. Sadly, it wasn’t that simple. Once in a while, I’d get a faint feeling of “nothing here,” but shortly after, the wind would seem to forget all about it. I had to keep asking, and each time, it was the same: “Nothing here,” and then nothing at all.

Still, on the third day on the road, it paid off. I got a direction and a vivid impression of the “portal of doom.”

“Dungeon nearby,” I said.

Mahya jumped in her seat, glancing out the window. “Where?”

“Close,” I replied. “The wind told me.”

She turned to Al and Rue in the back seat. “Want to clear it?”

Rue let out an enthusiastic “Yes!” and practically broke the seat with his tail.

Al, as usual, was more reserved. After a moment of deliberation, he gave a nod.

Since it was already late afternoon, I opened my house, and we called it a day. We spent the evening relaxing at home, and in the morning, I led them to the spot the wind had directed me to.

This dungeon was something new—a first for me. The portal wasn’t in a wall, rock, or on the ground like the others. This one was embedded in the trunk of a massive tree.

“You’re coming?” Mahya asked.

I just looked at her, then down at my jeans and hoodie—no armor in sight.

She sighed and waved me off. “See you later.”

I stayed home with a book, enjoying the quiet, until they returned a few hours later with a chaotic mix of excited voices and muttered curses.

“What happened?” I asked, looking up. “And what’s with all the cursing?”

“The dungeon was teeming with massive, explosive snails,” Al said with a visible shudder.

“Good loot, at least?” I asked.

“In the dungeon itself, no. But the final reward was indeed satisfactory.”

“Not to John,” Mahya said with a smirk. “He hates getting gold.”

“I don’t hate it,” I said defensively. “I just prefer something better.”

They laughed and headed off to take a shower. I could understand the need. The Clean spell was great for removing grime, but only water could give you that truly clean feeling after certain things.

The next day, we were back on the road, but the stretch we faced was downright awful. We had to store the Jeep after only a few hundred meters and continue on foot for most of the day. Despite our efforts, we made very little progress. Something had happened in that area and warped the road into a chaotic zigzag with steep rises and sudden drops. Some sections were so extreme that we had no choice but to fly up or down. By early afternoon, we’d had enough and returned to the air.

This went on for another day, and then, lo and behold, we finally reached a large clearing. It seemed to have been an intersection of three roads at some point. The roads were broken and twisted, with slabs of stone and massive metal rods jutting out from the remains of a multilevel structure. Despite the destruction, the encroaching greenery was low enough that we could finally take off.

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Up high, we made faster progress toward our destination, but this stretch of the continent wasn’t done challenging us. The dense forest stretched on for hundreds of kilometers without a single break. With nowhere to land at night, we had no choice but to keep flying nonstop for eleven days. We rotated shifts at the controls, and I brought us down occasionally for bathroom breaks. Al couldn’t even use the sword—the canopy was too dense.

During this stretch, we got well-acquainted with some of the flying menaces this world had to offer. On the third day, a massive swarm of flying insects attacked us. Identify called them “Needlethorn Mosquitos,” but they looked more like bats with long, needle-like proboscises. The swarm numbered in the hundreds, and while lightning was highly effective against them, their sheer numbers meant we didn’t escape unscathed. By the time we finally killed them all, we were bloody and mildly poisoned.

On days five, six, eight, and eleven, flocks of large birds attacked us. Lightning worked wonders here, too, and we fended them off with only mild pecking and scratching as our souvenirs. By the end of this stretch, I hated this world so much I didn’t even have the words to express it.

But as with all things, the bad times eventually came to an end. We finally reached an area still blanketed in endless green, but with scattered clearings we could land in, as well as a few lakes. From that point on, the journey became much more pleasant. We spent three days on the shore of a lake to recover from the flight marathon, and after that, we made it a point to land whenever the area looked inviting, even if there were still hours of daylight left. It made the journey longer, but it was worth every extra moment.

Of course, we still got attacked a few times—mostly by the persistent flying snakes, though a few other mana beasts also tried their luck. Unfortunately for them, their luck had run out. We reacted immediately, and with extreme prejudice. After all the pent-up nerves and anger, our retaliation was fast and brutal.

During this stretch, which lasted nearly four weeks, I found two more dungeons with the wind’s help, and we cleared them—or rather, they cleared them. I stayed home, content to cook, read, play my guitar, and take it easy. I still wasn’t in the mood to fight.

A day and a half before reaching the Gate, we flew over a city we had spotted on the Map. This one was inhabited and vastly different from the others we have seen. It was much smaller and still surrounded by a wall, like all the other cities, but inside, the buildings were all low stone boxes with metal bars on the windows. There was no clear separation between rich and poor; the entire place looked gray and dismal, like its own gloom weighed it down.

“Should we visit it?” Mahya asked.

Before I could even react, Al cut in with an emphatic, “NO!”

Me and Rue nodded in agreement. Mahya shrugged, and we continued on.

Finally, we reached the first Gate in the three Gate cluster.

Al touched it and looked confused. “This is highly peculiar.”

“What is?” I asked.

He pointed at the Gate. When I touched it, I got what he meant.

Travelers Gate #5412985345

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Mana Level: 0 (46)

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Mahya said, turning to Al. “Did your family’s archive ever mention something like this?”

“No, never,” he replied firmly.

“Should we cross it?” I asked.

“There’s no threat level,” Mahya said thoughtfully. “But we need to circulate our mana—the zero doesn’t look good.”

The other side was a desert with vast stretches of pale sand interrupted by jagged rock formations that rose abruptly from the ground. Thick, dark clouds hung low in the overcast sky, and the wind constantly whipped up fine particles of sand, creating a hazy atmosphere. Vegetation was sparse, limited to a few small bushes scattered across the dunes. The sand shifted with the gusts, and the terrain alternated between flat areas and uneven slopes, making it clear this was not an easy landscape to traverse.

The interesting part was that I didn’t feel bad. There was no sucking sensation, no feeling of something being ripped out of me by force, like in the other zero-mana world. I even stopped circulating my mana to test it, and nothing changed. I felt completely fine. The Map, however, was another surprise—it was entirely yellow. Back in Zindor, everything was green, but when I zoomed in, I could see city markers, roads, and other details. Here, no matter how much I zoomed in, there was nothing. Just yellow.

“Check the Map,” I said.

“Yeah, I saw,” Mahya replied. “Any idea what’s going on here?”

None of us had an answer. After standing around and scanning the area for a few minutes, we crossed back.

The next Gate in the cluster was two days away, and my guess turned out to be correct. It led to the same world. When we stepped through, the scenery was identical—churning skies and endless sand.

I was still curious about the lack of the sucking feeling. “I want to check something,” I said.

Closing my eyes, I dampened my senses one by one, focusing entirely on the sensation of mana. At first, I couldn’t detect any at all, but I kept at it. After some time, I picked up faint traces—so faint it was hard to tell if the mana was too low to be noticeable or if these were just remnants, like an afterimage. “An after-mana.”

“There’s either a minuscule amount of mana in the air, or there used to be mana, but not anymore,” I said.

“That tracks with the Gate info,” Mahya replied.

With no other information to go on, we headed back to Zindor.

The third Gate was three days away, and it also led to the same world. This time, however, the other side was different. According to the Map, it was still on the same continent, but there was a noticeable difference. The endless dunes of sand remained, but the sky above was clear, and the air felt far less oppressive.

I closed my eyes again, focusing on the mana; this time, it was easier. I could feel it in the air—not just a faint after-impression, but actual mana, though still nearly nonexistent. Keeping my eyes shut, I rose into the air, following the sensation.

“What are you doing?” Mahya shouted after me.

“Checking something. Don’t worry. If anything happens, cross the Gate—I’ll follow you,” I called back.

I felt Rue flying behind me and didn’t argue with him. The trail of mana guided me for about three hours, the concentration gradually increasing. It was still faint, but undeniably more present. Eventually, I arrived at an area where three rocks jutted out from the sand, their surfaces covered in vegetation. Each rock supported a tree, their green canopies a stark contrast to the barren dunes.

In the center, between the greenery-covered rocks, was a mana vent. The mana rising from it was incredibly sparse. If regular mana vents were rivers, even in low-mana worlds, this one was more like a faint, translucent vapor. But it was mana, and it was coming from the earth.

I sat cross-legged over the vent and focused on the sensation. The mana was primarily nature, but other aspects were interwoven with it. However, the amount was so minuscule that I couldn’t identify them. Time seemed to blur as I sank deeper and deeper into the feeling, immersing myself in the faint flow of mana.

My eyes snapped open in shock. I didn’t know how, but I knew—deep in my bones, without a shadow of a doubt—that this world had once been alive. Something had happened to its mana, and the world had died. The knowledge didn’t come from my Gate Traveler class, like the previous instances of knowing. It was something else. The mana told me its story. Freaky.

A wave of deep sadness washed over me, coming from the permanent connection to the system in my mind.

“How did this happen?” I asked it aloud.

I got something back—a fragmented response—but I couldn't make sense of it no matter how much I tried to decipher it.

“Come again?” I tried again, but this time, there was nothing.

The sadness lingered. It was mine, but at the same time, it wasn’t entirely mine. I shook my head, trying to clear the heavy feeling, and looked around for Rue. I found him napping peacefully under one of the trees.

“Come on, buddy,” I said, walking over and patting his side. “Let’s head back. There’s nothing to see here except memories.”