Worldview

Marome's bazaar offers the simple pleasure of casual dining. Its permanent terrace seating, open to all, makes it especially popular with visitors.

A large building tucked away in the outskirts of the city. It was not always part of the urban area, and was built by an eccentric nobleman as a vacation home in monster-infested lands. It was abandoned within days. This was hardly surprising, and many wondered at the nobleman's motivations. Adventurers who camp here have a pretty good idea, however. One can only sympathize with the nobleman as they glimpse the morning sunrise over Megalith Forest, a welcome relief for those whose hearts are battered and bruised.

Ruins that whisper tales of eternal adventure sometimes grant people a chance at an enchanting romance. This place, located near the Town of Beginnings, has been a lovers' meeting place for nobles and peasants, city-dwellers and adventurers, and even those from other far-off lands. Bards sing songs of lovers sitting on the steps of the half-submerged tower, holding each other's hands and gazing at the reflection of the trees on the water's rippling surface.

There was a village here once, but it's gone now. The 2nd Floor's harsh climate resisted any attempts to make this area livable, and these ruins are a testament to its obstinacy.

Urbus' construction techniques are renowned as the best in all of Aincrad. They're able to construct tall and sturdy buildings using only wooden frameworks and earthen walls, without the aid of magic or large-scale construction machinery. Their excavation techniques using controlled explosives are particularly outstanding, allowing them to break down hard bedrock to dig wells and build living spaces that take advantage of the plateau's shape.

These ruins were built to honor gods long since forgotten. The faces carved into them—whether the gods themselves or the priests who served them—hold secrets wholly lost to time. There is no way of unearthing the silent truths they harbor. And yet, their gentle smiles endure, unchanged across ages beyond counting. They offer a quiet and unexpected gift to adventurers who press on through the dangers of the area: a small moment of peace and serenity amid the soul-wearying toils of the journey.

The remains of a temple of the high elven faith, abandoned long ago. Some researchers refer to this place, and the High Elven Ruins beneath, as the "Temple of Doors." Rumors claim that they are carrying out experiments related to teleportation and overworlders in secret using the mechanisms within.

A town by the side of a lake near the 1st Floor Maze. It is the oldest town on the 1st Floor, and its stone houses and what remains of the amphitheater are just as they were in the past. Surrounded on both sides by the bountiful waters of the lake and fertile arable land, it flourished as the 1st Floor's main town several centuries ago, but the Town of Beginnings and its rapid growth soon left it to languish. Currently, it serves as a bustling inn town, a base for adventurers seeking to test their mettle in the Maze.

I spent the whole day searching where the intel said to look, and now it's dark. All for nothing. After all that, the item is nowhere to be found. Was that info I bought fake? If it was, that man has some serious explaining to do. It's not just time I wasted. I'm getting every Cor of that information fee back, with interest! — Message from an adventurer

This is a disaster. I should have recognized the trap immediately. Now my whole party is dead. I let the promise of loot blind me and lost everything—my friends, my inventory, my Cor. All my recovery items are gone, too. There's nothing left to do but avoid enemies and make a run for the nearest town. I want to go home. I'm not dying here. — Message from an adventurer

The high elven religion, which worships the ancestors of the elves, is comprised of multiple sects. Among their ranks, the temples of the old faith, which has the longest and most storied history, differ slightly from the others, often featuring designs dedicated to the two priestesses who served the two Sacred Trees.

Though Tolbana bustles with theater-goers by day, its backstreets tell a different story. These quiet alleys host secret dealings, stolen moments between lovers, and simple pleasures—like sharing bread from a nearby stall while sitting on street steps.

An altar built at the foot of a great stone statue. A wide bridge leads up to it, though years of erosion has left it partially buried under fallen rubble from the surrounding cliffs. The altar sits along the path leading to a tower that local tradition holds once served as the site of sacred rites or divine trials. No definitive records survive to confirm the details, but evidence that this place was used for ceremonial purposes remains clear. Few people today know its history. Perched at a great height with an open, exposed structure, it has come to be known simply as a treacherous place best avoided.

It would seem that my journey ends here. I have kept to my principles and hunted ever for the truth. But an inquisitive mind is a wasted thing in a world where the truth is manipulated by forces unseen. They will likely treat my research as though it never existed, which is why I have left inscriptions scattered far and wide. To those with an inquisitive mind, to those who travel far beyond the Safe Areas in search of mindful truths—I hope that you, who are reading this, will continue my research. And so, at long last, I engrave my name here. —Armet, first head of the Adventurer's Alliance

In cities on the 2nd Floor, where tall buildings and excavation techniques have advanced, flexible wooden scaffolding is a common sight. Architects from Urbus are especially renowned, even across Aincrad.

Tucked within the Deadwood Forest, a flooded wasteland stretches as far as the eye can see. There is nowhere else like it on the second floor, where water is notoriously scarce. Across this dry and punishing land, people, animals, and monsters alike have spent countless years searching, fighting over, and scheming for what might amount to mere drops. And yet, no one has ever tried to settle here—and for good reason. What shimmers before you is blighted waters thick with ash, sulfur, and the concentrated, silent resentment of every soul it has swallowed. Choosing between slaking a momentary thirst or keeping one's life is an easy choice for most everyone to make.

Does this statue bearing a water jug speak to the dire thirst felt by all who live in this parched land? Or is it perhaps a symbol of some ancient king's power, one who commanded water freely across a world of rock and sand? Perhaps it signifies an even more ancient age—a time before this land ascended into the sky. Could it be that this entire region was once blanketed in lush greenery and water flowed freely from the earth?

Behold the aqueduct before you, proof that a great river once flowed through the land. So why, one might ask, has it dried up like this? One research scientist claims that it was all the work of an experiment in so-called "extreme magic" a thousand years ago.

The second floor is a vast stretch of sand and bare rock. Scholars have long disagreed whether this land has always appeared this way or was once fertile ground worn down by the merciless passage of time. One of these scholars put forward a different theory entirely: that this endless desolation is the result of a curse laid upon the land by some ultimate form of magic. How they arrived at that conclusion may forever remain a mystery, for no one has seen them since.

This is where the river ends. As you can plainly see, there is no ocean, above or below ground. But you can sense a kind of fluctuation, can you not? This unnatural disconnect is a striking representation of the system keeping us alive. Water comes and goes; there is movement to and fro, into and out of this world. And yet those trapped here cannot move as we wish. I ask you, are we not less free than even the water we drink? What else could this place be but a cage? —From an inscription left by a researcher.

A forest whose presence in the desert defies all logic. It is inhabited by trolls, who also serve as its guardians. Trolls are not so dissimilar from spirits, such as dryads, and have the ability to vitalize the surrounding flora. Be that as it may, their very presence in the area remains a mystery. Trolls are demi-humans, and typically prefer moist, more densely forested climates. Perhaps someone may have created this "forest" in order to protect something important—a possibility only recently being explored by researchers.

The Floating Castle of Steel, created as a result of a great magic spell a thousand years ago, gouged earth from the ground and catapulted it into the sky. The earth was forcibly removed via a teleportation device, and after taking shape high above, it descended in layers, eventually forming the land of Aincrad. When the magic faded, some of the earth remained suspended, becoming the Floating Islands and giving Aincrad its distinctive look.

Have you heard of Magic Stones? According to a legend I found, whoever obtains one will be able to use the magic that was lost before the Great Separation. And I'm not talking some imitation spell or anything like that—I mean honest-to-goodness magic. But why would such a thing exist? Perhaps it has something to do with magic's disappearance from this world. —From an inscription left by a researcher.

The Cattle God statues found across Taran are crafted by specialist sculptors who stake their lives for their craft. Under adventurer protection, these artisans venture outside the safe zone to study bovine monsters up close, before carving their vitality into stone. Such work deserves a respectful prayer.