Fishmouth Town.
“Thinking Sand…”
Ed-Bear stared at the sandbox positioned before the bard, lost in thought.
Ancient relics were incredible tools, a form of technology that transcended the current era. Having heard the Lantern-Bearer’s stories, Ed-Bear had grown curious about the Explorers’ Guild and decided to pay it a visit.
After purchasing some supplies, it led its lizard toward the town’s guild branch. Pushing open the heavy doors—padded with cowhide and sponge for insulation—it stepped into a warm, brightly lit hall.
The soundproofing was excellent. The moment the doors closed, the bustle of the street vanished, replaced by an atmosphere reminiscent of a high-end hub. The hall was crowded, mostly with explorers carrying their characteristic candles and lanterns. Some sat in groups, chatting animatedly, while others rested quietly over a cup of tea.
The hall provided free refreshments: black tea and starfruit juice.
Ed-Bear’s gaze swept across the crowd, eventually locking onto the prosthetic limbs worn by several individuals. These bionic attachments appeared remarkably flexible and powerful. Every joint operated with fluid grace, devoid of the mechanical clunkiness or unnatural stiffness one might expect.
If hidden beneath long sleeves and gloves, it would be nearly impossible to distinguish them from real flesh and blood. Ed-Bear observed that these limbs handled everything from the delicate task of lifting a teacup to the heavy lifting of several dozen pounds with the same ease as a “natural” limb. They were, for all intents and purposes, functional dominant hands.
For Ed-Bear, these prosthetics were a high-priority subject of investigation. This was the specific mission Wang Yue had assigned it.
It immediately moved into action, approaching a veteran explorer to inquire.
“You mean this thing?” The old man laughed, gesturing to his arm. “I lost the original to a vicious Mimic-Ape! The beast took four hits from a harpoon cannon and still tore itself off the barbed hooks to charge me! I tried to use the forest for cover, but it swung those terrifying arms like clubs, snapping trees and flipping boulders like they were pebbles. It caught my arm and snapped it like a dry twig! If I hadn’t rolled away, it would have been my head. But I got the last laugh—put the final harpoon right through its eye and stirred its brains into soup! Hahaha!”
The old man let out a hearty roar of laughter.
His prosthetic was massive, exceeding twenty centimeters in diameter at its thickest point, with ten-centimeter joints. It was encased in patterned, high-grade natural leather. As it moved, Ed-Bear could see the subtle bulge of hard components shifting beneath the “skin.”
In contrast, the man’s remaining human right arm was even more monstrous—the muscles were gnarled like tree roots, the veins bulging like earthworms, and his flexed biceps looked like thick cables of twisted steel. Even a heavyweight boxing champion would pale in comparison.
Despite having heard the old man’s boastful tale countless times, the surrounding explorers still cheered and applauded the display of bravado.
“I’m interested in the prosthetic itself,” Ed-Bear interrupted softly. “I have a friend whose condition is more severe. She might need… a full set.”
After a round of questioning, it gathered the information it needed.
Prosthetics were a product of ‘Relic Artifacts.’
The functions of certain ancient relics weren’t always immediately useful. They required secondary processing and specific auxiliary devices to maximize their potential. For instance, a spherical relic known as a “Harmonic Sphere” possessed the property of harmonic vibration. On its own, it was useless, merely a source of noise. However, when embedded into a wooden mallet, it became a highly effective tool for relieving muscle aches.
While that was a simple application, the construction of a prosthetic was far more complex. A general-purpose prosthetic typically integrated three types of relics: Pyre-Bone, Pivot-Comb Spheres, and White Tendon.
Pyre-Bone served as the skeletal interface, acting as an external bone attachment.
Pivot-Comb Spheres were joint-type relics. They featured pores on both sides that could extend spiral keys, which were controlled directly by the user’s intent.
White Tendon was a highly elastic, gel-like substance. It was resistant to cutting, wear, and high temperatures, though it could be reshaped using specific solvents.
The grade of the resulting limb depended on the quality of these three materials.
Ed-Bear did a quick mental power-scaling. The old man was likely on par with a Mimic-Ape, requiring a life-or-death struggle to kill one. For Ed-Bear, however, a Mimic-Ape was merely easy-to-catch prey. There would be no struggle, only a one-sided hunt.
If the old man could obtain a relic-crafted arm, then Ed-Bear certainly could as well.
Ed-Bear looked up slightly. In its mind’s eye, it saw Prima standing again, her missing limbs replaced by relic-forged equivalents.
To acquire these relics, the first step was to integrate into human society. Ed-Bear decided to join the Explorers’ Guild.
It approached the front desk to ask the receptionist about the enrollment process.
Hooded trench coats were the standard uniform for explorers. The receptionist, a woman named Talitha, wore a modified version—a brown hooded sweatshirt with two small bear ears on the hood. She looked quite endearing.
“May I ask why you wish to join the Explorers’ Guild?” she asked.
“For the future of humanity,” Ed-Bear replied.
Talitha shrugged. It was a canned question with a canned answer. The guild had a comprehensive management system; no matter what a recruit’s stated attitude was, their true nature would be revealed through their actions.
She launched into her practiced explanation: “There are two types of explorers. Free Explorers, who follow their own will, and Professional Explorers, who are formally affiliated with the Guild. Professional Explorers are divided into four main roles: Night-Watchers, Light-Seekers, Candle-Bearers, and Lantern-Bearers.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Free Explorers aren’t managed by the Guild and don’t receive Guild benefits. They are responsible for their own profits and losses. However, the Guild provides some information support. When a Free Explorer completes a Guild-posted mission, they earn Merits. These can be used to trade for information, food, relics, currency, or even hired services.
“Professional Explorers, on the other hand, must follow Guild orders and management. In exchange, they receive a salary, special privileges, and benefits. They earn more Merits for the same tasks and have access to restricted, precious items—such as Special Grade Relics.”
“And the specific duties of the four roles?”
“Night-Watchers are responsible for the operation of public facilities like the Town Hall, schools, hospitals, lighthouses, and transport stations. Candle-Bearers protect production activities in the areas surrounding settlements. Lantern-Bearers and Light-Seekers are the primary force for exploration and combat.”
Ed-Bear nodded. It made sense; the four roles weren’t a hierarchy of power, but a division of labor. However, it had no interest in being an employee. It was impossible for it to work a “job.”
“I will become a Free Explorer,” Ed-Bear stated.
After registering its identity, it was handed a crudely made iron plaque stamped with the Guild’s emblem and a serial number.
Next, Ed-Bear flipped through a thick Merit Exchange Manual, finding the section for prosthetics. There was a wide variety, complete with diagrams and data. Prices ranged from tens of thousands to millions of Merits.
The most common were the “Bone-Linked” prosthetics using materials like Pyre-Bone. Since they anchored directly to human bone and flesh, the foundation was often the limiting factor for their strength.
The pinnacle of the craft were “Full-Set” prosthetics, which functioned more like power armor. These were known as Combat Regalia, though their prices were astronomical.
Ed-Bear suddenly recalled the hand of Lord Aurora back at Blackstone Outpost. It was clearly a type of prosthetic, yet it was nowhere to be found on the exchange list.
Closing the manual and pocketing the iron plaque, Ed-Bear walked toward the exit. It was time to say goodbye to the little girl.
