Book 5: Chapter 10 — First Tier |
The next few hours brought three more encounters.
A pair of serpentine creatures burst from the undergrowth without warning, their scales shifting through a kaleidoscope of colors as they moved. The chromatophores along their spines pulsed with bioluminescent patterns, each flash designed to disorient prey. Rainbow snakes, what more could you expect from an area near Death Valley.
[Chromatic Coilsnake (Uncommon) - lvl 327]
[Chromatic Coilsnake (Uncommon) - lvl 314]
Barely B-rank, but their coordination was impressive. They moved in tandem, one feinting high while the other struck low, their scales refracting light in disorienting bursts.
Weak, Tony observed through their bond, his mental voice carrying a note of disappointment. Master could squash them with Power Form. Their scales are pretty, though. Tony appreciates aesthetics.
Since when does Tony appreciate aesthetics? Noah wondered, but didn’t activate Abyssal Fusion just yet.
The creature's next strike wasn’t fast enough to avoid his counterattack and the slender creature, however high level, was barely as thick as his wrist.. Noah killed it cleanly—a precise strike with the Spear of Crimson End that severed its spine exactly where he intended. The Crimson Rot didn't even have time to spread before the light left its eyes.
The second one he fumbled, putting so much force into his attack that he cratered the ground beneath it, sending chunks of stone flying in every direction.
"Thanks for the wisdom, Tony," Noah replied dryly, though the roll of his eyes was fond.
Tony is generous with his knowledge.
Noah would appreciate it coming before, Noah commented.
Noah learns best from experience.
Noah wanted to argue, but could only chuckle and shake his head. Tony did know him, after all.
A half hour later, a territorial insectoid forced them to work together, its bulk blocking the passage ahead. Chitinous armor layered in overlapping plates, mandibles crackled with residual lightning, and compound eyes tracked both of them simultaneously.
[Stormshell Mantid (Rare) - lvl 367]
Arcs of electricity danced between its antennae, and Noah's Dragon's Eyes clearly showed the accumulation of power as it charged up some form of static discharge ability.
"It's building charge," Noah warned. "Stay mobile."
He triggered Arcane Step, blinking behind the creature in a flash of spatial displacement. His Chains of Binding erupted from his palms, wrapping around its segmented legs before it could pivot. The runes along the chains flared with sigils, suppressing the creature's attempt to discharge.
Aurelia didn't waste the opening. Her flames found the gaps in its plating—the joints between segments, the softer tissue beneath the mandibles. Fire poured into every weakness, and the mantid shrieked as its nervous system overloaded.
When it finally fell, they were both breathing hard, but neither had taken a serious hit.
"Better," she admitted.
"Getting there."
You've killed [Stormshell Mantid (Rare) - lvl 267]
Bun Bun handled the third encounter entirely on his own.
The creature emerged from a pile of rubble—a quadrupedal thing covered in bony protrusions that seemed to absorb light. Its skeleton was visible through patches of translucent flesh, and those bones pulsed with a sickly green luminescence. Each step left small patches of decay on the stone beneath it.
[Marrowblight Stalker (Rare) - lvl 281]
Mine, Bun Bun declared through their bond, his mental voice carrying absolute certainty.
Before Noah could respond, the murder bunny launched himself at the stalker with explosive force. His scales gleamed with draconic power as he activated his own version of the bloodline abilities he'd absorbed.
The Marrowblight Stalker's bones flared, attempting to discharge necrotic energy. But Bun Bun was faster. His jaws clamped down on the creature's throat, and his own version of Wyrm's Curse flooded through the connection. The stalker's bones cracked and splintered as the curse turned its own skeletal structure against it.
Bun Bun has applied [Wyrm's Curse] to [Marrowblight Stalker]
The familiar dragged his kill back to them with evident pride, bloodstained and vibrating with satisfaction. Pieces of luminescent bone still clung to his fur.
Worthy prey, strong bones, good crunch. A pause. The curse made them crunchy faster.
"He's getting bigger," Aurelia observed. "Have you noticed?"
Noah nodded. Bun Bun's shoulders now reached past his knee, and the scales interspersed through his fur had multiplied. The horns on his head were longer, sharper, curving backward in a way that reminded Noah of certain draconic imagery. "Dragon blood must be accelerating his growth."
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I grow because I consume the strong. Bun Bun's mental voice carried distinct smugness. The dragon blood merely... assists.
Tony respects Bun Bun's hunting philosophy, Tony added. Consume the strong, become stronger. Very draconic.
"Sure, buddies."
They pressed on.
The terrain grew rockier as they traveled, the jungle vegetation giving way to scattered boulders and patches of bare stone. Evidence of old battles marked the landscape: claw gouges in rock faces, scorch marks that had faded but had never quite disappeared, the occasional massively oversized bone.
Then Noah spotted the first tent.
Or rather, as he discovered when they came nearer, the remains of one. The canvas had rotted to tatters, the support poles collapsed into a heap of rusted metal as soon as he touched them. But the shape was unmistakable.
They approached with weapons drawn, though Noah's Abyssal Awareness told him nothing living waited ahead. The camp had been abandoned long enough for the arena to begin reclaiming it. Vines crept through the remains, and some kind of fungal growth had colonized what might once have been a supply crate.
They found the remains of several more tents in equally decrepit condition, arranged in a rough circle around a central fire pit. The ashes had long since scattered, but the ring of stones remained. Six tents in total. Room for perhaps a dozen people, if they'd doubled up.
"Over here." Aurelia pointed to a pile of bones. They were scattered, gnawed, but unmistakably humanoid. A skull stared up at them with empty sockets, surrounded by fragments of armor, corroded but recognizable.
Tony senses residual necrotic energy.
Aurelia pointed to the ground, where scoring marks in the stone led away from the camp. "Something came for them. Big."
Noah followed the drag marks with his eyes. They led deeper into the arena, toward the distant center where the Champion's Gate waited.
He crouched beside one of the bodies and found a leather satchel still attached to a skeletal hip. The contents had survived better than their owner—a small journal wrapped in oilcloth, a handful of coins, and a folded piece of paper that proved to be a partial map.
"What does it say?" Aurelia asked as Noah opened the journal.
The handwriting was cramped, difficult to read in the dim light, but Noah managed to make out the final entries:
Day 47: Lost Markos today. The shimmerwolves got him while he was on watch. We're down to eight now.
Day 52: Found evidence of another camp ahead. Survivors? We're going to investigate tomorrow.
Day 53: They were all dead. Something’d torn through their camp and just... taken them. We only found pieces.
Day 54: Halloran says we should turn back. Maybe he's right. But the
The entry ended mid-sentence. The pages after were blank.
Noah studied the map. It showed the arena's basic layout: tiered seating, the central gates, the rough terrain features. Someone had marked their campsite with an X, and another deeper in, labeled "survivors?" in the same cramped handwriting.
"Whatever killed them came from there." Noah traced the drag marks with his eyes again.
"Well, we're headed the same way. Maybe we’ll end up avenging them."
“Seems that the encampment is nearby, based on the map?” Noah hummed.
“Yeah. Let’s head there, get some information?” Aurelia stretched. “And I wouldn’t mind someplace safe to sleep for a bit.”
Noah laughed and pointed to the row of colossal seating to their right. “Up there, if this is to be believed.”
“Then let’s go meet the neighbors.”
—
The First Tier encampment was proof that adventurers would create civilization anywhere, given enough time. Zax hadn't mentioned it, so Noah assumed it to be more of a recent creation... though 'recent' could be anything from a few years to multiple decades, knowing Zax.
It sprawled across a section of the ancient seating, makeshift structures built into the gaps between stone seats meant for giants, everything from canvas tents to more permanent wooden buildings, even a few that looked like they were made of clay or stone. Cook fires sent smoke spiraling upward. The sounds of arguing, laughing, and haggling created a constant background noise that felt alive and welcoming.
Noah's Abyssal Awareness catalogued everything as they approached. Thirty-seven people in the immediate vicinity, seventeen of whom ran warmer than human baseline, fire affinity users, if Aurelia was any example. Two signatures barely registered, either ice-aligned or actively suppressing their presence.
He could tell the two of them were on the extreme low end for the group here. The aura density alone put most of these people in the mid-B ranks, and several in A.
Six of these stood clustered near the encampment's far edge, surrounding heat sources that definitely weren't human.
The beast-riders’ bonded creatures are interesting, Tony noted. Tony senses mantis, serpent, and several lizard variants.
A woman noticed their approach and separated from a group of traders, making her way toward them with the casual grace of someone who'd spent years navigating dangerous situations. She was middle-aged, with laugh lines around her eyes and the kind of callused hands that suggested regular combat. Her armor was practical worn leather over chain mail, nothing that would draw attention.
"New faces," she said, stopping a comfortable distance away. "I'm Mira. I sell information, supplies, and occasionally advice. One of those is free. Guess which."
"The advice?"
"Smart boy." Mira's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "First piece: The First Tier is neutral ground. No fighting. No stealing. Break those rules, and everyone here will turn on you. Beyond the First Tier, anything goes. Don't provide anyone a reason to remember you. The ones who hunt here aren't guild adventurers playing at danger. They're survivors. See those beast-riders over there? The ones with the mantis and the snake and the lizards?"
Noah nodded. "I see them." The six A-rankers and their creatures, lounging near a cluster of tents marked with a thorned emblem. They weren't looking directly at his group, but they weren't not looking either.
"The Thornback Collective. They claim the Second and Third Tiers as their hunting ground. Most newcomers who go deeper don't come back, and it's usually not because of the monsters."
Aurelia's jaw tightened. "They kill other adventurers?"
"They're pragmatic. If you've got something worth taking and you can't defend it, that's your failing, not theirs." Mira shrugged. "Just how it works out here. This isn't guild territory. If you can't protect yourself, you shouldn't be here."
"Noted." Noah kept his voice neutral, but he was increasingly feeling like they’d walked into a situation they weren’t prepared for. "What can you tell us about the arena itself?"
"Information isn't free," Mira reminded him.
Noah’s eyes drifted upward to the next tier. “But there’s monsters up there?”
“There’s monsters everywhere here. That’s not news to anyone.”
“Tier two, then?” Aurelia asked.
Strong prey. We should test ourselves.
The smart play would be to stay low, keep out of the way of the people way too strong for them, and give themselves time to adjust to the new threat levels. But since when had he ever been smart?
"Yes," he decided. "Let's see what we're up against."