Chapter 26 #3
Scales: 21,293,664/100,000,000
He let out a low whistle. The radiance might have departed, but it blessed him with an entire Nightshard worth of scales before doing so.
Incredible.
Awed, Harald stared into the depths. The darkness below called to him.
Was this akin to a well? Those he’d used before always transported him immediately to the next level down, but this one clearly had no bottom.
Curious, he summoned his Gauntlet Golem.
Darkness swirled by his side, and then the massive stone figure was there, looming over him.
“Um. Can you jump into the pool and see how far down it goes? You don’t… breathe, right?”
The golem nodded ponderously, and with great dignity hopped forward off the ledge. The splash was enormous, but Harald leaned forward to watch the huge shape descend into the murk and eventually be swallowed by the darkness.
A moment later, it appeared in his Cosmos.
“Huh.” It wasn’t damaged. Hadn’t been killed, because he sensed that he could immediately resummon it. Which he did.
“What happened?” asked Harald.
The golem stared at him.
“Right. Sorry. Did you see any monsters?”
The golem shook its head “no.”
“Was there a floor?”
No.
“Did something attack you?”
No.
“You just… after a certain point were sent back to my Cosmos?”
The golem hesitated, then waggled its head from side to side.
Harald frowned. “Do you know how to write?”
No.
“Damn it.” He stared into the depths once more. “Was it dangerous?”
Again the golem considered, then shook its head “no.” But it didn’t seem entirely convinced.
“Do you think I should dive down there?”
To this, the golem gave a very pointed shrug.
“Right.” Harald rubbed at his jaw. “Weird. This feels… I don’t know, pretty unique. Pretty special. Like I shouldn’t just walk away from it.”
After a moment, he noticed that he wasn’t shivering, despite the air being chill and himself still naked and drenched. That felt odd—until he remembered that his flesh was now infused with shadow. Right. Of course.
He rose and dressed.
Stepped back to the edge of the pool.
Considered.
What to do?
The golem watched, its expressionless face unsatisfyingly impassive.
“You know what?” Harald rolled his shoulders, then hitched his pack. “This pool’s been very good to me. I’m going to assume it’ll continue to be a good thing. Here I go.”
He dismissed the golem, took a few steps back, and then not wanting to waste time second-guessing himself, ran forward and dove down into the waters.
The water grew icier the deeper he swam, great breaststrokes pulling him ever deeper into the darkness.
Down, down he went, until all was black, and that very darkness gave him strength.
His chest was swelling, the need to breathe growing urgent, and still he swam down. At what point should he turn? Return to the surface? A little more. Just a little—
The sensation of water around him disappeared. It remained freezing, but now he felt as if he were suspended in the air, with down having become… up?
He hung in the void.
It felt like home.
Form of the Black Throne reveled in the eternal night.
Welcome to Interstice.
Passenger: Harald Darrowdelve
Abyssal Father 5
Number of Ascended Thrones: 4
Endowments Noted.
Do you desire to return to Flutic, or be sent to the appropriate dungeon level?
Harald’s need to breathe had faded away. The pressure in his chest was gone. He stared at the words. Interstice? He’d never heard anything like it. But its intent was clear: send him to the surface or the “appropriate” dungeon level.
“What does that mean? What does “appropriate” mean?”
No answer.
The words hung before him.
The Fallen Angel had read his window. Which meant she’d evaluated his strength. That had to mean she’d send him to whichever dungeon level she thought he belonged.
“I’ll go back to the 12th!” he called out.
Nothing.
Damn it.
How deep would it send him? The Fallen Angel would be fair, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if Vorakhar was trying to set him up.
“Appropriate level,” he called out, and the darkness swirled.
The abyss enveloped him, cold and familiar, and he felt the world warp.
A moment later, he stood upon firm stone. The sky above was depthless and glowed chartreuse, as if the ruined world around him was encased in a great green crystal ball. The radiance from above painted the rocks and fallen masonry about him black, with the shadows deepening to emerald.
He stood as if within the ruins of an even more massive version of Vic’s cathedral on the Avenue of Penitence.
No roof, but soaring walls that rose to staggering heights, so that giants could have walked through the arches punched through their sides.
What once this edifice might have been he couldn’t guess, for as huge as the walls were, so much more was toppled, littering the ground with hills of masonry on which strange bushes of dark green moss grew.
A low green miasma filled the hollows. All was fey and alien and strange.
One thing was clear.
Harald had never been on any floor like this.
A message appeared before him.
Welcome to the 36th Level