“The Dogons.”
The simple words were quick to catch Sylas’ attention.
“This is a lost city of the Dogons?”
“Almost certainly,” Nosphaleen replied, trying to keep her cool.
“How do you know?”
“I didn’t at first. There is definitely more than one primitive race of Earth that worshipped idols like this.”
As she spoke, their gaze was focused on the shadowy outline of the scorpion god before them.
He had the head of a human, the carapace and tail of a scorpion on his back, and six arms. Standing at over ten meters tall, he looked to the skies as though he wanted to challenge the sun.
“However, there’s only one race I know of that had a fondness for fusing the likeness of humanoids with their gods. They believed it made them closer to their gods.
“Less arrogant races believed that their gods made them in the image of themselves and granted them free will to worship them.
“The Dogons believed the opposite. They believed that it was their duty to bring themselves closer to the image of their gods as the ultimate sign of respect.”
Sylas nodded slowly, but this still wasn’t enough to confirm for certain, especially since she had been in captivity all her life and couldn’t have possibly had a chance to see the Dogons before in any form.
Unless, of course, the Dogons were in captivity with her. But if that was the case, she would have certainly mentioned it already, especially with how many times he had questioned her about certain things.
“In that case, how do you think someone might go about benefiting from a place like this one?” Sylas asked.
Ragnar almost certainly obtained something from this place, and he had also found that it had enough potential to bet his future on, and yet Sylas had yet to find anything special here.
There was no Dungeon entrance, no Quest to trigger, there didn’t seem to be anything of value at all.
“You think the leader gained something from here?”
“I believe so. He had an ability related to tattoos. He activated them to form an illusory armor over his body that could both be used to bolster his attack and defense.”
Nosphaleen’s brows shot up. “That’s the Unique Gene ability of the Dogons. They are born with Rune Flesh naturally because of it, and they etch Runes in the form of tattoos across their bodies to increase their strength.
“It’s an extremely powerful ability.”
Sylas raised an eyebrow. “Their Unique Gene allows them to comprehend Rune Flesh? That’s it?”
Nosphaleen gave Sylas an odd look. It didn’t seem like this master of hers understood just how rare Rune Flesh was.
The vast majority of people would never cross into this fourth level. To have a race that was naturally born at that state gave them an enormous advantage that couldn’t be explained in just a few words.
The Dogons were far from a barbarian race. Although they looked the part, it was ironically because of their intelligence that it was possible.
That said…
“No, that isn’t the only ability of their Unique Gene. Technically, their Unique Gene is a very high level of flesh manipulation. It gives them the ability to recover quicker, which also tends to translate to very high Physical stats. But most importantly, they can turn over their cells at an exceptional rate.
“So, if they have a Rune Etching on their bodies that is no longer useful to them, they can ‘heal’ from it and replace it with another. They’ve even created patches that they can use in battle to quickly swap methods. If you ever battle a Dogon, you have to be careful. Because in one moment, you could have gotten used to their attack patterns before they all of a sudden became a completely different combatant before your eyes.
“Many of my people have died due to their tricks.”
Sylas listened intently, taking note of everything he could. No one would know someone better than their enemies. From the way it sounded, the Clypsians had been in combat with the Dogons for a long while. They likely knew one another very well.
‘The Unique Gene of ‘Siren’s Call’… but I’ll hold off from asking about the Clypsians. She might be willing to tell me everything about the Dogons because she hates them, but it could cause problems if she realized I wanted to know the weaknesses of her race as well…’
He still hadn’t forgotten how those three Clypsians had appeared for Nosphaleen. It was clear that their camaraderie couldn’t be underestimated, even if they had given up on her in the end.
“Then what are their weaknesses?” he asked.
“It depends on the Dogon you’re facing. Most of them have limits, and not all of them are created equal.
“Most Dogons can only take on two or three Rune Etchings at a time. They also tend to run out of Aether and mental capacity quickly because of the strain using their Runes puts on them, so they’ll focus on using their pure Physical capabilities for as long as they can get away with it.
“The most dangerous Dogons, though, are the Bone Dogons. If you ever run across a Dogon with bone piercing through their nose or ears, be extremely careful. These are the most powerful of them, and their Rune Flesh is high graded enough to Rune Etch directly into their bone, making them several times more powerful.
“If you run into a Dogon with odd bone growths coming out of them, however…” Nosphaleen gave Sylas a heavy and somber look. “… Run the other way.”
Sylas didn’t reply to this warning. His head turned and looked up at the statue, and he felt he had pieced together what Ragnar gained from this place.
He reached a hand forward and passed a palm across the statue.
‘As expected…’
The Runes. They were here.
There was no treasure to find because the city itself was the treasure. A treasure trove of knowledge.
