Let’s talk mana material.
I was no expert on the matter, but I was aware that the substance coursed through every fiber of our world. Imagine an invisible cloud of fog that pervaded everything. Occasionally, dense concentrations of it could form due to the influence of ley lines and other factors. When it did, it manifested confined alternate dimensions based on information extracted from the history of the world. Those were treasure vaults: the reason treasure hunting had been a career since days of yore.
Treasure vaults came in all shapes and sizes, manifested from any history imaginable, from lost civilizations to rare natural phenomena. The forms of the vaults themselves, while following certain patterns, materialized in near infinite variety, taking the shape of towers, castles, forests, deserts, underground dungeons, or even more peculiar forms, such as ships, waterfalls, or skies.
The reason treasure hunters delve into these vaults was for the treasures within: unique items called Relics that materialized along with them. They could take the form of anything, may that be a canteen that never ran dry, a ring that protected its wearer from a single fatal blow, or a coat that allowed its wearer to fly, to name a few. Many of these items could not be recreated with modern technology—perhaps an expression of humanity’s imagination or a product long lost from the memory of human civilizations. Depending on the power, just one of these bona fide treasures could fetch such a high enough price to allow a hunter to live out the rest of their lives in luxury.
Of course, there were risks involved. There were monsters, powerful beings that dwelled in concentrations of mana material, as well as phantoms, apparitions that came to be in the same manner as the vaults themselves. Then there were the countless traps and the challenges of the terrain itself. Even altercations between agitated hunters could lead to instant death.
Despite facing these life-threatening dangers, hunters continued to yearn for the promises treasure vaults held. Fame, fortune, and the power a hunter obtained by taking in the high-density mana material were all too tempting for them to give up.
And there was no better location for a hunter to set themself up in than the imperial capital of Zebrudia. The city was host to convenient public transport and advanced amenities, as well as unrivaled security provided by the strength of the empire. To top it all off, numerous underground ley lines, the pathways of mana material, generated treasure vaults of varying difficulty in the vicinity, making Zebrudia a holy land for treasure hunters.
The vast array of Relics and monster parts brought back by hunters drew in merchants from all over, their trades attracting even more hunters to the city. The more famous hunters congregated here, the safer the city grew. This cycle of prosperity allowed the Zebrudian Empire unparalleled strength among the most powerful nations of the world.
Once we, a group of kids from a remote hometown, had vowed to become treasure hunters, we’d taken carriage after carriage to make the tough journey to the distant capital. We’d been sure that its environment would test us and provide us with a shortcut to glory. In fact, my friends had become a little too refined by the experience, but even so, I still stood by our decision. The Zebrudian Empire prospered because of treasure hunters, resulting in its laws favoring them in both amenities and taxes.
The headquarters of First Steps clan stood in a prime location, overlooking one of the main streets of the capital. Clan headquarters were otherwise known as “clan houses,” but the Steps’ clan house was a five-story monster of a structure, having been funded by the exorbitant member’s fee.
At that very moment, I was dozing off within the clan master’s office on the top floor of said structure, basking in the sunlight pouring in from the wide windows, when Eva, the vice clan master, came bursting through the door.
Running a clan was far from easy. It required an entirely different skill set than that required for treasure hunting. Many clans were run by their clan master alone, but the Steps hired staff to lighten the load. The vice clan master, Eva Renfied, was one such staff member, along with nine other non-hunter employees under her.
Eva walked in with her slender, unmonstrous limbs, her amethyst eyes shining behind her red-framed glasses, her brown hair neatly tucked away. On sight alone, you could tell that she could get the job done. In fact, the clan would have crumbled to the ground without her. She was one of the many important backbones I’d recruited into the Steps, whose assignment to her post was due in no small part to the fact that I wouldn’t die if she took a swing at me.
Eva saw me jolt into consciousness and let out a deep sigh. “We’re on the front page, Krai.”
“Ah... Seriously?”
Visibly disgruntled, Eva took the newspaper from under her arm and laid it flat on the desk. It was the latest issue of Zebrudia Times, the top-selling paper in the empire. The front page featured a photo of the bar we’d rented for our recruitment drive the previous day, except its sign had fallen to the ground, a hole had been blown through one wall, and several sections were ablaze. Through the freshly hammered opening in the wall, you could see a hot mess of the hunters brawling.
“Brawl Busts Out as Big Shot Braves Recruit”—or so the headline went. No doubt they’d got the wrong end of the stick, but I was too busy trying not to barf to point that out.
I feigned a big yawn as I skimmed through the article for the one thing I had to be sure of.
“Any civilian casualties?”
“Fortunately, no.”
“Then we’re in the clear. No harm, no foul.”