Chapter 196 - Skyreach Spire VIII
Claire slowed down as the clouds began to part, revealing not a dark fortress, but a heavenly tower perfectly lit by the sunbeams that pierced the fluffy marshmallows above. It was made of white and orange brick, stacked high as the eye could see. Large windows were carved into the masonry of every level, but gazing inside of them was impossible. Only when seen out of the corner of one’s eye did they appear as anything but walls.
“Woah… this thing’s huge. It’s gotta be at least twenty times bigger than Al’s dungeon.” Standing up on her hind legs, the fox looked around the skyscape with her eyes sparkling. She would venture from the lyrkress’ head on occasion, running up and down the length of her body to get closer looks at the various pieces that caught her attention. But while she was nonchalantly admiring the scenery, her companions remained on high alert.
“Maybe,” said Claire. “But I hope it isn’t. It’ll take too much time to explore.”
“Oh, come on! Slowly combing through all the details is the best part!”
“Maybe the most boring, but definitely not the best”
“I really don’t think this is the time for this,” said Natalya. She had unsteadily risen to her feet with her rapier drawn, ready to intercept the monsters that dotted the sky. Some joined the whirling clouds in spiralling around the perimeter, while others flooded the tower’s airspace. There were so many of them that they could not be counted, but the beasts did not dominate their sightlines; they were completely crowded out by a veritable garden of plantlife. There were flowers, grasses and trees, their roots reaching into the sky, as if to grab hold of the swirling clouds.
“Don’t worry, Lia,” said Sylvia. “These guys are pushovers. I’m not really sure why they’re even attacking us.”
“I believe that most dungeon monsters tend to prefer battle over flight,” said Arciel. “They are not exactly known for their intelligence.”
“Hey! That’s rude!” said Sylvia.
Though they competed for airspace, the flora and fauna were one in their function. Every living thing that the lyrkress passed made an attempt to attack her. Leaves, roots, fins, and spells all lashed out, but most were outrun, and the few she could not evade were repelled by her scales.
To conserve her energy, Claire dispatched the first few groups with her eyes. The powerful magic built into her beholders froze them solid and dropped them out of the sky, but even with the others’ attacks thrown into the mix, the horde refused to shrink. It was not an increase in monster density that drove the change, but rather the unrelenting nature of their assailants. Every single individual she neared would continue to give chase, regardless of how far they trailed behind.
“Apologies. I did not mean to insult your lizard friend,” replied the vampire, her eyes on Boris.
It did not take long for the qiligon to find herself sick of the endlessly growing horde. With an annoyed flick of the tail, she spun around and flexed her jaws. Her chest swelled to three times its usual size. Like an arrow nocked against the string of a bow, her breath was ready to be unleashed; the essence of winter would spread through the sky and freeze everything, including the warship, as soon as she exhaled. She didn’t think that Pollux would fall, but at the very least, it would cause a great inconvenience and completely destroy his reputation. But as the lyrkress recalled the acquaintance onboard, she found her rage subdued. Spinning back around, she launched the magical attack forward instead. The monsters it hit were reduced first to icicles, and then to frozen dust.
When she looked over her logs, she found that Sylvia was right. The horde was made up of weaklings; most hung around the level 150 range and provided only the tiniest sliver of experience.
“I wasn’t talking about Boris! Everyone already knows that he’s kinda dumb! I was talking about me!”
Arciel pulled a fan out of her sleeve and used it to hide her lips as she stared at the fox with her eyes open. “You come from a dungeon? Does that mean there are more of you?”
“Uhmmm… kinda? There are lots of talking foxes, if that’s what you were asking, but I dunno if there’s any more of me. Everyone else just spends all day napping.”
“That’s hardly any different from what you do,” said Claire, as she kicked a magic eagle.
“Wow, what the heck!?” cried the fox. “Everyone’s being rude today, I swear!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Clawing another monster to death, she twisted past a large floating tree and arrived at the tower’s base. A careful look, however, sent the annoyed lyrkress skyborne again. There were no doors, only a sign stating that the entrance was on the roof.
“Yes you do! You’re just poking fun at me because you feel like being mean.”
“That’s what you get for being so loose-lipped,” muttered the cat.
“Not you too, Lia! I thought you were over that already,” complained Sylvia. “Claire’s supposed to be the only one petty enough to hold grudges.”
“I’m not petty.” The claim earned her a total of five confused stares; even Boris joined in with a befuddled drop of the jaw. “What? I’m not.” Still, she stood firm and repeated the claim with her voice unfaltering.
“Then how come you kept calling me a dog!?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ignoring the urge to smile, she crested the tower and landed atop its summit, transforming as soon as her feet hit the ground. Her vectors took care of her riders; Sylvia aside, each was removed in turn and placed atop the flattened roof. Though her humanoid form was the most familiar, Claire defaulted to her lyrkrian one instead. The four-legged frame was simply better suited for combat; her forelimbs were covered in scales and tipped with sharp talons, while a thin but robust coat of fur kept her lower half guarded.
Joining Claire in transformation was the building that they had landed on. A large dome, likely made of glass, appeared overhead and trapped them inside, while the bricks in front of their feet turned yellow, forming a path that led to a distant door. Several dozen monsters sprung out of it as it emerged, but they did not conduct themselves as would the usual combatants. The bowtie-wearing owls pressed their wings to their chests and bowed as a red carpet rolled out from within.
“How strange. It appears that the dungeon is welcoming us.” Arciel placed a hand on her hat as she took the lead and followed the path. The grip she had on her staff was tightened as she drew near the monsters, just in case they broke formation and attacked.
Lia was just as cautious. She advanced only a little at a time, keeping her eyes peeled and her hands near her waist. Claire and Matthais, on the other hand, took bold steps. Both had holstered their weapons, and the latter was even shooting belligerent glances, as if daring the monsters to attack.
Despite his blatant taunting, they all stood their ground, even after the group stepped inside the entryway and descended the narrow stone steps.
Log Entry 6879
You have entered the dungeon known as Skyreach Spire, vessel of primordial flame. It cannot be determined if any of the monsters in this dungeon outclass you.
It was clear even from their initial impressions that the tower’s interior was many times larger than its vessel implied. The first floor was a massive craggy mountainscape, the individual peaks as tall as some of the Langgbjerns. From atop the peak that they had entered, they saw a realm every bit as detailed as Alfred’s. All of the monsters that inhabited the dungeon’s exterior were present and accounted for, but they were no longer alone. Trolls, feral giants, and other ground dwelling species could be seen lumbering around the valleys, trodding through fields of barbed wildflowers—exactly as they had been briefed.
“Holy crap,” said Sylvia. “This place might be even bigger than Sky Lagoon.”
“Getting to the next floor is supposed to take two hours on horseback,” said Natalya, as she skimmed through the pamphlet. “It’s in one of the valleys on the other side of the mountain range.”
“Hours on horseback? What a bizarre method of measuring distance,” said Arciel. “Should they not be representing it in turberlengths instead?”
A turberlength, or 11376 meters to be precise, was a standard unit of measure, expressed as the three quarters of the distance that an average turberus could cover before it needed to rest. The leeway built into the measurement was present primarily as a means of ensuring that most would reach their destinations even if their draft animals were subpar.
“I bet it’s ‘cause they’re Cadrians,” said the knight.
“It is,” confirmed Claire. “Everyone knows how far a horse can run.”
“How pretentious. There is no reason not to use the standard unit of measure.” Arciel frowned as she crafted a spear of blood and obliterated the troll charging up the side of the mountain. “Now, we may not have any horses or turberi, but I expect that we should have no trouble covering the distance in record time.” She glanced at Claire, who only rolled her eyes.
“I refuse. I’m not a mount.”
“Yes you are!” said Sylvia, from her seat atop the lyrkress’ head.
“Wrong,” said the begrudgingly domesticated moose.
“Then how do you explain me sitting on your head and getting places?”
“Easily. You’re a hat.”
“Hat!? I’m not a hat!”
Ignoring the beret’s protests, Claire spread her wings and leapt off the mountain. The three following behind her were dragged along with her vectors, forced to participate in her journey through the sky. Still not accustomed to flight, Natalya kicked and screamed, but the others allowed themselves to be carted away.
The first floor certainly made for a scenic sight, but the monsters were weak and there was no value in a leisurely hike when time was of the essence. Floors two through four were similar, not only in terms of power level, but appearance and layout as well. The mountain range continued even as they descended the steps, albeit with lower peaks and an increase in greenery and vegetation.
It was only on the fifth floor, after a mind-numbing lull, that they finally encountered any danger. The monsters looked identical to those on the previous floors, but their levels were twice as high. Even those that were ascended used mimicry to disguise themselves as weaker variants. Still, the party mowed them down; the pack of thirty that assaulted them at the floor’s entrance was far too frail to prove triumphant, even after catching them off guard.
“I’m getting kinda bored. How come all the floors are the same?” Sylvia, who had nearly fallen asleep on two different occasions, spoke with a groan as she watched an ostrich-shaped cow drown in a bubble of blood.
“Why wouldn’t they be?” muttered Claire.
“They’re not exactly the same,” said Natalya, with an awkward smile.
“Yeah, but they basically are!” she grumbled. “What’s a bit less rock and a bit more grass supposed to mean when there’s this much space!?”
“That is how most dungeons are configured,” said Arciel. “The gods do not have the time to carefully rearrange every single detail.”
“Yes they do!” huffed Sylvia. “Al, errr, a celestial I know, said that most of them just waste their time lazing around.”
“I highly doubt that,” said Arciel. “There certainly may be some lazy gods, but most remain rather active. Griselda, for one, fulfils her duty night after night by moving across the sky and basking the world in her light.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like that actually takes her all that much effort, right?” asked the fox. “I bet it’s easy as pie for her, since she’s a goddess and stuff.”
“I suppose not…”
“Yeah, exactly! And she probably isn’t doing it on purpose either. I’m pretty sure she kinda just crosses the sky whenever she feels like it, and that’s why sometimes, the moon randomly goes backwards or shows up in the middle of the day.”
“T-that is absolutely false!” shouted the indignant rock believer. “She does not act without reason. T-there is simply a greater purpose that we lack the divinity to understand.”
“Uh huh…”
The explanation reeked of such hogwash that even the mostly deceased cow reached to plug its nose.
“Gods and goddesses aside,” said Natalya. “We’ve just about exhausted all of our intel. The valley up ahead is the last place that’s charted.”
Having decided to follow the provisioned map, after getting lost in the sky on the second floor, the party was in the midst of navigating a particularly narrow gorge. They walked along the side of a fast-running river with greenery growing from all around it, carefully placing their feet so they would not fall into the water. The vegetation was more varied than it had been on the first floor, but its hostility remained ever constant. Every plant they passed attempted to snap at them, whether with vines, flowers, or roots, and even the river itself was apparently hostile. According to the notes left by the previous explorers, any that entered it would never be seen again. It was the sort of account that would be readily dismissed in the average scenario, but the frontrunners had parties that included many powerful swimmers. Fishmen and scyphs had all found themselves falling victim to whatever lay beneath the dark, murky waves.
The valley that Natalya described was out of sight with all the twisting stones in their way, but according to the map, it was no different from any of the other meadows they had crossed. It had only one purpose, to function as an arena for some sort of combat-related challenge. Upon its completion, a staircase would appear at the end of the field and offer them entry to the next floor, as had been the case for every floor that came before it.
“There’s probably something there,” said Claire. “Something strong enough to wipe out a group of elites.”
“Just what I’ve been hoping for.” The mantis’ jaws clicked as he stepped forward, antennae raised and blades primed. “Permission to scout ahead?”
Arciel sighed. “Granted.”
“Appreciated.” Matthais bowed before sprinting off at top speed, leaping from one side of the gorge to the other as he ran along the walls.
Of the four fighters, the mantis was by far the most belligerent, basking in the thrill at every given opportunity. The few times he spoke, he claimed that he only sought stronger foes, but in truth, the knight relished battles against weaklings as well. Imposing restrictions on himself, he refused to dodge until the very last moment, just to raise the stakes. Even against a crowd, his approach remained identical. Efficiency was a concept completely lost on him; despite spending the most time in battle, his headcount was by far the lowest.
That was why no one minded him wandering ahead. He was already the one slowing the group down, and they were sure to reconvene once he lost himself in combat for the thousandth time.
Following in his wake, they found dead monsters all along the path. Ostriches with their bovine heads removed, cattle with their wings clipped, even giants with their hearts and armour pierced right through. Some, the dungeon was already disintegrating, while others remained with their pelts still perfectly intact.
“Leave them alone.” Claire grabbed Natalya by the head and forcefully turned her eyes away from one such pile. “We’ll find better parts later.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about it!”
“Liar. And the shine in your eyes changes, whenever money is involved.”
“Really?” asked the cat, with a blink.
“Mhm! They always start sparkling and stuff,” said Sylvia. “And I dunno if you’ve noticed but you get kinda depressed whenever you buy expensive stuff.”
Lia twitched. “Why does it sound like you’re just pulling my tail?”
“Because someone is about to.” Claire pointed towards Arciel, who had taken to examining the feline’s rear appendage.
“H-huh!?” The Paunsean knight spun around and covered the fluffy brush’s base with her hands. “W-what are you doing?”
“I do apologize. I was fascinated by the way it moved when you started examining those corpses.”
“I wasn’t moving it.” Lia’s gaze turned skeptical as she took half a step back. But when she turned to the crowd for support, she found it devoid of sympathy. Claire was wearing her usual blank stare, while Sylvia was laughing, her paws clutching her stomach.
“That’s another thing you do, when you think about money,” said Claire. “You make your tail ripple.”
“No I don’t,” said the cat, with a shake of the head. She was confident, but those around her failed to rise up in support, a theme that only repeated throughout the hour they spent traversing the gorge.
The corpse trail began drying out as they closed in on the meadow, with the true avians the only ones to remain. The few birds that hung around the region stayed high up in the sky, not moving between the mountain peaks with their less-than-graceful, uddered wings.
“Where’s Matthais?” asked Natalya, as she looked through the grassy plain.
The rhiar warrior was not the only thing missing. Unlike the rest of the dungeon, which was marked with slashes and heavy footprints, the tranquil meadow featured no signs of battle. The flowers were pristine and untrampled, the ravine slowed and ran gently, and the few bits of exposed dirt were completely unmarked, not even by the local wildlife. It was the exact opposite of the scene that had awaited them at the end of every other floor, where monsters of all shapes and sizes ran rampant and crushed the flora underfoot.
“Uhm… let’s see…” Sylvia hummed a rune and pressed it to her nose. “It doesn’t look like he made himself invisible again, and his scent kinda just cuts off, so I dunno.”
“I don’t hear him either,” said Claire.
“It is possible that he is merely avoiding detection. Stealth is a matter with which he has a wealth of experience.” Arciel covered her mouth with a fan and whistled, but no response was given. “How strange…”
“Then he must’ve been killed.” Forging a spear of ice, Claire stepped forward and entered the meadow. Her ears were raised overhead and her eyes were kept peeled for any signs of movement. Contrary to her expectations, none of the plants attacked. There was not a single spray of noxious pollen, nor any attempts to bind her feet in place.
“I doubt it,” said Arciel. She formed a ball of blood in each hand as she followed. “There are no signs of a struggle, and Matthais remains one of the most resilient soldiers I have seen. He has survived far more than he rightfully should.”
“Yes, but we’re dealing with something that’s wiped out one of the Vel’khanese royal guard’s best scout teams,” said Natalya. “We need to stay on guard.” The cat was the only one to keep her weapon sheathed, opting instead to consult her notes.
“The royal guard is hardly of note,” said Arciel. “Most of the veterans have long resigned.”
“Yes, but the point stands.” Lia put her book away and adjusted her glasses.
“Stop worrying,” said Claire. “We’ll deal with it when it happens”
A strange tingle made its way up her spine as she spoke. And with it, a sense of malaise. She felt like she wanted to vomit as the world around her distorted. It felt like it was spinning, like a globe in the hands of a child.
Log Entry 7024
Detect Force Magic has reached level 24.
Closing her eyes, she was able to resist the forces, to stop herself from falling when the ground silently split open beneath her. She forced herself to attention when she realised that Natalya and Arciel had no such means of resistance. She cast a spell and reeled them back towards her, but a more powerful vector ripped them out of her grasp and pulled them into the rift that lay within the crevice.
“Oh wow, that’s a really weird looking portal,” said Sylvia. It looked like her fur was being tugged around by the assailant, but she was otherwise entirely unaffected. “I wonder where they went.”
“We can check.”
“Oh, that sounds fun! Let’s go!”
“Sure.”
Scratching the fox’s chin, Claire spread her wings and dove straight into the rocky gorge.
Chapter 196 - Skyreach Spire VIII
Claire slowed down as the clouds began to part, revealing not a dark fortress, but a heavenly tower perfectly lit by the sunbeams that pierced the fluffy marshmallows above. It was made of white and orange brick, stacked high as the eye could see. Large windows were carved into the masonry of every level, but gazing inside of them was impossible. Only when seen out of the corner of one’s eye did they appear as anything but walls.
“Woah… this thing’s huge. It’s gotta be at least twenty times bigger than Al’s dungeon.” Standing up on her hind legs, the fox looked around the skyscape with her eyes sparkling. She would venture from the lyrkress’ head on occasion, running up and down the length of her body to get closer looks at the various pieces that caught her attention. But while she was nonchalantly admiring the scenery, her companions remained on high alert.
“Maybe,” said Claire. “But I hope it isn’t. It’ll take too much time to explore.”
“Oh, come on! Slowly combing through all the details is the best part!”
“Maybe the most boring, but definitely not the best”
“I really don’t think this is the time for this,” said Natalya. She had unsteadily risen to her feet with her rapier drawn, ready to intercept the monsters that dotted the sky. Some joined the whirling clouds in spiralling around the perimeter, while others flooded the tower’s airspace. There were so many of them that they could not be counted, but the beasts did not dominate their sightlines; they were completely crowded out by a veritable garden of plantlife. There were flowers, grasses and trees, their roots reaching into the sky, as if to grab hold of the swirling clouds.
“Don’t worry, Lia,” said Sylvia. “These guys are pushovers. I’m not really sure why they’re even attacking us.”
“I believe that most dungeon monsters tend to prefer battle over flight,” said Arciel. “They are not exactly known for their intelligence.”
“Hey! That’s rude!” said Sylvia.
Though they competed for airspace, the flora and fauna were one in their function. Every living thing that the lyrkress passed made an attempt to attack her. Leaves, roots, fins, and spells all lashed out, but most were outrun, and the few she could not evade were repelled by her scales.
To conserve her energy, Claire dispatched the first few groups with her eyes. The powerful magic built into her beholders froze them solid and dropped them out of the sky, but even with the others’ attacks thrown into the mix, the horde refused to shrink. It was not an increase in monster density that drove the change, but rather the unrelenting nature of their assailants. Every single individual she neared would continue to give chase, regardless of how far they trailed behind.
“Apologies. I did not mean to insult your lizard friend,” replied the vampire, her eyes on Boris.
It did not take long for the qiligon to find herself sick of the endlessly growing horde. With an annoyed flick of the tail, she spun around and flexed her jaws. Her chest swelled to three times its usual size. Like an arrow nocked against the string of a bow, her breath was ready to be unleashed; the essence of winter would spread through the sky and freeze everything, including the warship, as soon as she exhaled. She didn’t think that Pollux would fall, but at the very least, it would cause a great inconvenience and completely destroy his reputation. But as the lyrkress recalled the acquaintance onboard, she found her rage subdued. Spinning back around, she launched the magical attack forward instead. The monsters it hit were reduced first to icicles, and then to frozen dust.
When she looked over her logs, she found that Sylvia was right. The horde was made up of weaklings; most hung around the level 150 range and provided only the tiniest sliver of experience.
“I wasn’t talking about Boris! Everyone already knows that he’s kinda dumb! I was talking about me!”
Arciel pulled a fan out of her sleeve and used it to hide her lips as she stared at the fox with her eyes open. “You come from a dungeon? Does that mean there are more of you?”
“Uhmmm… kinda? There are lots of talking foxes, if that’s what you were asking, but I dunno if there’s any more of me. Everyone else just spends all day napping.”
“That’s hardly any different from what you do,” said Claire, as she kicked a magic eagle.
“Wow, what the heck!?” cried the fox. “Everyone’s being rude today, I swear!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Clawing another monster to death, she twisted past a large floating tree and arrived at the tower’s base. A careful look, however, sent the annoyed lyrkress skyborne again. There were no doors, only a sign stating that the entrance was on the roof.
“Yes you do! You’re just poking fun at me because you feel like being mean.”
“That’s what you get for being so loose-lipped,” muttered the cat.
“Not you too, Lia! I thought you were over that already,” complained Sylvia. “Claire’s supposed to be the only one petty enough to hold grudges.”
“I’m not petty.” The claim earned her a total of five confused stares; even Boris joined in with a befuddled drop of the jaw. “What? I’m not.” Still, she stood firm and repeated the claim with her voice unfaltering.
“Then how come you kept calling me a dog!?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ignoring the urge to smile, she crested the tower and landed atop its summit, transforming as soon as her feet hit the ground. Her vectors took care of her riders; Sylvia aside, each was removed in turn and placed atop the flattened roof. Though her humanoid form was the most familiar, Claire defaulted to her lyrkrian one instead. The four-legged frame was simply better suited for combat; her forelimbs were covered in scales and tipped with sharp talons, while a thin but robust coat of fur kept her lower half guarded.
Joining Claire in transformation was the building that they had landed on. A large dome, likely made of glass, appeared overhead and trapped them inside, while the bricks in front of their feet turned yellow, forming a path that led to a distant door. Several dozen monsters sprung out of it as it emerged, but they did not conduct themselves as would the usual combatants. The bowtie-wearing owls pressed their wings to their chests and bowed as a red carpet rolled out from within.
“How strange. It appears that the dungeon is welcoming us.” Arciel placed a hand on her hat as she took the lead and followed the path. The grip she had on her staff was tightened as she drew near the monsters, just in case they broke formation and attacked.
Lia was just as cautious. She advanced only a little at a time, keeping her eyes peeled and her hands near her waist. Claire and Matthais, on the other hand, took bold steps. Both had holstered their weapons, and the latter was even shooting belligerent glances, as if daring the monsters to attack.
Despite his blatant taunting, they all stood their ground, even after the group stepped inside the entryway and descended the narrow stone steps.
Log Entry 6879
You have entered the dungeon known as Skyreach Spire, vessel of primordial flame. It cannot be determined if any of the monsters in this dungeon outclass you.
It was clear even from their initial impressions that the tower’s interior was many times larger than its vessel implied. The first floor was a massive craggy mountainscape, the individual peaks as tall as some of the Langgbjerns. From atop the peak that they had entered, they saw a realm every bit as detailed as Alfred’s. All of the monsters that inhabited the dungeon’s exterior were present and accounted for, but they were no longer alone. Trolls, feral giants, and other ground dwelling species could be seen lumbering around the valleys, trodding through fields of barbed wildflowers—exactly as they had been briefed.
“Holy crap,” said Sylvia. “This place might be even bigger than Sky Lagoon.”
“Getting to the next floor is supposed to take two hours on horseback,” said Natalya, as she skimmed through the pamphlet. “It’s in one of the valleys on the other side of the mountain range.”
“Hours on horseback? What a bizarre method of measuring distance,” said Arciel. “Should they not be representing it in turberlengths instead?”
A turberlength, or 11376 meters to be precise, was a standard unit of measure, expressed as the three quarters of the distance that an average turberus could cover before it needed to rest. The leeway built into the measurement was present primarily as a means of ensuring that most would reach their destinations even if their draft animals were subpar.
“I bet it’s ‘cause they’re Cadrians,” said the knight.
“It is,” confirmed Claire. “Everyone knows how far a horse can run.”
“How pretentious. There is no reason not to use the standard unit of measure.” Arciel frowned as she crafted a spear of blood and obliterated the troll charging up the side of the mountain. “Now, we may not have any horses or turberi, but I expect that we should have no trouble covering the distance in record time.” She glanced at Claire, who only rolled her eyes.
“I refuse. I’m not a mount.”
“Yes you are!” said Sylvia, from her seat atop the lyrkress’ head.
“Wrong,” said the begrudgingly domesticated moose.
“Then how do you explain me sitting on your head and getting places?”
“Easily. You’re a hat.”
“Hat!? I’m not a hat!”
Ignoring the beret’s protests, Claire spread her wings and leapt off the mountain. The three following behind her were dragged along with her vectors, forced to participate in her journey through the sky. Still not accustomed to flight, Natalya kicked and screamed, but the others allowed themselves to be carted away.
The first floor certainly made for a scenic sight, but the monsters were weak and there was no value in a leisurely hike when time was of the essence. Floors two through four were similar, not only in terms of power level, but appearance and layout as well. The mountain range continued even as they descended the steps, albeit with lower peaks and an increase in greenery and vegetation.
It was only on the fifth floor, after a mind-numbing lull, that they finally encountered any danger. The monsters looked identical to those on the previous floors, but their levels were twice as high. Even those that were ascended used mimicry to disguise themselves as weaker variants. Still, the party mowed them down; the pack of thirty that assaulted them at the floor’s entrance was far too frail to prove triumphant, even after catching them off guard.
“I’m getting kinda bored. How come all the floors are the same?” Sylvia, who had nearly fallen asleep on two different occasions, spoke with a groan as she watched an ostrich-shaped cow drown in a bubble of blood.
“Why wouldn’t they be?” muttered Claire.
“They’re not exactly the same,” said Natalya, with an awkward smile.
“Yeah, but they basically are!” she grumbled. “What’s a bit less rock and a bit more grass supposed to mean when there’s this much space!?”
“That is how most dungeons are configured,” said Arciel. “The gods do not have the time to carefully rearrange every single detail.”
“Yes they do!” huffed Sylvia. “Al, errr, a celestial I know, said that most of them just waste their time lazing around.”
“I highly doubt that,” said Arciel. “There certainly may be some lazy gods, but most remain rather active. Griselda, for one, fulfils her duty night after night by moving across the sky and basking the world in her light.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like that actually takes her all that much effort, right?” asked the fox. “I bet it’s easy as pie for her, since she’s a goddess and stuff.”
“I suppose not…”
“Yeah, exactly! And she probably isn’t doing it on purpose either. I’m pretty sure she kinda just crosses the sky whenever she feels like it, and that’s why sometimes, the moon randomly goes backwards or shows up in the middle of the day.”
“T-that is absolutely false!” shouted the indignant rock believer. “She does not act without reason. T-there is simply a greater purpose that we lack the divinity to understand.”
“Uh huh…”
The explanation reeked of such hogwash that even the mostly deceased cow reached to plug its nose.
“Gods and goddesses aside,” said Natalya. “We’ve just about exhausted all of our intel. The valley up ahead is the last place that’s charted.”
Having decided to follow the provisioned map, after getting lost in the sky on the second floor, the party was in the midst of navigating a particularly narrow gorge. They walked along the side of a fast-running river with greenery growing from all around it, carefully placing their feet so they would not fall into the water. The vegetation was more varied than it had been on the first floor, but its hostility remained ever constant. Every plant they passed attempted to snap at them, whether with vines, flowers, or roots, and even the river itself was apparently hostile. According to the notes left by the previous explorers, any that entered it would never be seen again. It was the sort of account that would be readily dismissed in the average scenario, but the frontrunners had parties that included many powerful swimmers. Fishmen and scyphs had all found themselves falling victim to whatever lay beneath the dark, murky waves.
The valley that Natalya described was out of sight with all the twisting stones in their way, but according to the map, it was no different from any of the other meadows they had crossed. It had only one purpose, to function as an arena for some sort of combat-related challenge. Upon its completion, a staircase would appear at the end of the field and offer them entry to the next floor, as had been the case for every floor that came before it.
“There’s probably something there,” said Claire. “Something strong enough to wipe out a group of elites.”
“Just what I’ve been hoping for.” The mantis’ jaws clicked as he stepped forward, antennae raised and blades primed. “Permission to scout ahead?”
Arciel sighed. “Granted.”
“Appreciated.” Matthais bowed before sprinting off at top speed, leaping from one side of the gorge to the other as he ran along the walls.
Of the four fighters, the mantis was by far the most belligerent, basking in the thrill at every given opportunity. The few times he spoke, he claimed that he only sought stronger foes, but in truth, the knight relished battles against weaklings as well. Imposing restrictions on himself, he refused to dodge until the very last moment, just to raise the stakes. Even against a crowd, his approach remained identical. Efficiency was a concept completely lost on him; despite spending the most time in battle, his headcount was by far the lowest.
That was why no one minded him wandering ahead. He was already the one slowing the group down, and they were sure to reconvene once he lost himself in combat for the thousandth time.
Following in his wake, they found dead monsters all along the path. Ostriches with their bovine heads removed, cattle with their wings clipped, even giants with their hearts and armour pierced right through. Some, the dungeon was already disintegrating, while others remained with their pelts still perfectly intact.
“Leave them alone.” Claire grabbed Natalya by the head and forcefully turned her eyes away from one such pile. “We’ll find better parts later.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about it!”
“Liar. And the shine in your eyes changes, whenever money is involved.”
“Really?” asked the cat, with a blink.
“Mhm! They always start sparkling and stuff,” said Sylvia. “And I dunno if you’ve noticed but you get kinda depressed whenever you buy expensive stuff.”
Lia twitched. “Why does it sound like you’re just pulling my tail?”
“Because someone is about to.” Claire pointed towards Arciel, who had taken to examining the feline’s rear appendage.
“H-huh!?” The Paunsean knight spun around and covered the fluffy brush’s base with her hands. “W-what are you doing?”
“I do apologize. I was fascinated by the way it moved when you started examining those corpses.”
“I wasn’t moving it.” Lia’s gaze turned skeptical as she took half a step back. But when she turned to the crowd for support, she found it devoid of sympathy. Claire was wearing her usual blank stare, while Sylvia was laughing, her paws clutching her stomach.
“That’s another thing you do, when you think about money,” said Claire. “You make your tail ripple.”
“No I don’t,” said the cat, with a shake of the head. She was confident, but those around her failed to rise up in support, a theme that only repeated throughout the hour they spent traversing the gorge.
The corpse trail began drying out as they closed in on the meadow, with the true avians the only ones to remain. The few birds that hung around the region stayed high up in the sky, not moving between the mountain peaks with their less-than-graceful, uddered wings.
“Where’s Matthais?” asked Natalya, as she looked through the grassy plain.
The rhiar warrior was not the only thing missing. Unlike the rest of the dungeon, which was marked with slashes and heavy footprints, the tranquil meadow featured no signs of battle. The flowers were pristine and untrampled, the ravine slowed and ran gently, and the few bits of exposed dirt were completely unmarked, not even by the local wildlife. It was the exact opposite of the scene that had awaited them at the end of every other floor, where monsters of all shapes and sizes ran rampant and crushed the flora underfoot.
“Uhm… let’s see…” Sylvia hummed a rune and pressed it to her nose. “It doesn’t look like he made himself invisible again, and his scent kinda just cuts off, so I dunno.”
“I don’t hear him either,” said Claire.
“It is possible that he is merely avoiding detection. Stealth is a matter with which he has a wealth of experience.” Arciel covered her mouth with a fan and whistled, but no response was given. “How strange…”
“Then he must’ve been killed.” Forging a spear of ice, Claire stepped forward and entered the meadow. Her ears were raised overhead and her eyes were kept peeled for any signs of movement. Contrary to her expectations, none of the plants attacked. There was not a single spray of noxious pollen, nor any attempts to bind her feet in place.
“I doubt it,” said Arciel. She formed a ball of blood in each hand as she followed. “There are no signs of a struggle, and Matthais remains one of the most resilient soldiers I have seen. He has survived far more than he rightfully should.”
“Yes, but we’re dealing with something that’s wiped out one of the Vel’khanese royal guard’s best scout teams,” said Natalya. “We need to stay on guard.” The cat was the only one to keep her weapon sheathed, opting instead to consult her notes.
“The royal guard is hardly of note,” said Arciel. “Most of the veterans have long resigned.”
“Yes, but the point stands.” Lia put her book away and adjusted her glasses.
“Stop worrying,” said Claire. “We’ll deal with it when it happens”
A strange tingle made its way up her spine as she spoke. And with it, a sense of malaise. She felt like she wanted to vomit as the world around her distorted. It felt like it was spinning, like a globe in the hands of a child.
Log Entry 7024
Detect Force Magic has reached level 24.
Closing her eyes, she was able to resist the forces, to stop herself from falling when the ground silently split open beneath her. She forced herself to attention when she realised that Natalya and Arciel had no such means of resistance. She cast a spell and reeled them back towards her, but a more powerful vector ripped them out of her grasp and pulled them into the rift that lay within the crevice.
“Oh wow, that’s a really weird looking portal,” said Sylvia. It looked like her fur was being tugged around by the assailant, but she was otherwise entirely unaffected. “I wonder where they went.”
“We can check.”
“Oh, that sounds fun! Let’s go!”
“Sure.”
Scratching the fox’s chin, Claire spread her wings and dove straight into the rocky gorge.
