Chapter 911 - Arrival (Patreon)

The first stratum is filled with beasts of all kinds. Vicious growls and the sounds of battle ring constantly here, in this, the weakest area of the Dungeon.

The second is filled with shadow and cold and death. A place of darkness where creatures of spun shadow swim and crawl through an endless maze where light is quiet.

The third is a realm of fire, smoke and ash. Demons abound and theirs is an alien and savage existence.

But in the fourth, the impossible begins to become possible. The concentration of mana is such that the rules of the world, of life, of the existence as we know it become skewed. The realm of Myth. To enter this layer of the Dungeon is to step onto the precipice of a different universe.

• Excerpt from 'A treatise on the concentration of mana and its      effect on the laws of physics'

Pulled forward like a fish with a hook in its mouth, I rush into the portal and am overtaken by a blinding light that washes away my vision and has me seeing stars. The texture beneath my legs changes, the temperature drops and as the light slowly fades I am left staring out into the impossible.

In front of me rises a mountain. An enormous, jagged and snow-capped mountain that rises from a floor so far below that I cannot see it and rises to a height that boggles the mind. Mist and cloud shield the top and unbelievably I realise that it is raining, faintly, but still, raining. I shield my eyes as best I can, since I have no lids to cover them and stare in open jawed wonder at the incredible scenery before me, heedless of the ants who begin to pour through the gate.

Between where I stand and the mountain opposite is a vast open space, filled with what I believe at first are incredibly dense looking clouds, but quickly realise are something else entirely. They are floating rocks. Although rocks isn't really the word I think fits them best. These aren't pebbles or even boulders, these are huge, practically islands. Each must weigh thousands of tons, large enough to host a small village. How in the name of whatever the heck passes for Newton on Pangera are these things FLOATING?!

From one of them pours a steady stream of crystal clear water, cascading over the side in a waterfall that scatters into mist as it plunges into the bottomless depths below. So obsessed am I with what I can see in front of me, I almost don't realise what it is my eyes are telling me lies to the left and right.

And the answer is, yet more mountains, two more in fact, just as colossal as the first. Is this the layout of the fourth stratum? Impossible mountains, the bottomless valleys between and the absurd floating islands that lie between? This is absolutely ridiculous! And I thought the third was weird!

[Hmmmmm. Welcome to the fourth stratum. I believe this is your first visit?] a powerful mind connects to my own and rumbles in my head.

I continue to stare out ahead of me as I soak in this incredible vista.

[Yep, first time. No matter what someone tells you, it doesn't really prepare you for actually seeing the real thing, does it?]

[Indeed no. Though, if you really want to be impressed, you should more closely examine the mountain that lies beneath your feet.]

I suppose I'm standing on a mountain also, aren't I? I can't exactly tell how tall it is, since I can neither see the bottom nor the top, but perhaps I'm roughly a third of the way up? But I do wonder what's so special about this one that the Grove Keeper would point it out. Downwards is the only direction I can't see all that clearly. I can see what is next to me, sure, but not what is beneath my feet. So I tilt to the side a little and examine the mountain I stand upon.

Except it isn't a mountain.

"What?" I mutter to myself.

It doesn't feel like dirt or stone, it's softer than I think it should be, and the colour isn't what I would have expected.

I turn around.

"NO. SHOT."

It's a tree. The tree. In place of the mountain is a gnarled tangle of roots so massive, so thick, that I thought I was standing on a flat slope. Hundreds of thousands of these rise from deep in the earth and collect at the base of an absurd trunk, which much have a circumference in the kilometres, which rises up and vanishes into the cloud and mist overhead.

[Is that the Mother Tree?] I ask stupidly.

[Of course,] the Grove Keeper's thoughts glow with pride.

I slip into my mana sense for a moment before shutting it off. The amount of energy flowing through this tree is boggling, simply boggling, running up through the roots and converging within the heart of the tree. I had no idea it was possible to get this strong!

[Is the Mother Tree an ancient?] I ask. I feel like I have to check!

The Grove Keeper stares at me in surprise.

[No, of course not. Mighty she may be, but she cannot compare to those creatures.]

I swear by every fibre in the holy white beard that the tree wiggles in laughter at me. Wiggles!

[I came here to save your butt,] I grumble openly, slapping a leg down on the root beneath me, [no need to laugh at me!]

[Hmmm. If you would come with me, I will direct you and your siblings to the conflict. The termites have not attacked us over the surface, it is through the tunnels at the roots of the mountains that they strike.]

By now thousands of ants have gathered outside the gate, absorbing their surroundings in tradition ant silence, though I've little doubt my siblings are just as awed as I am. Just as we turn to follow the guidance of the Grove Keeper a faint sound send my antennae swaying through the air. That sound had definitely come from above, and was reminiscent of something that would really rather not see.

[Hey there, Keeper, do you guys all have the same name, by the way? Never mind that, I just wanted to ask if you knew what caused that sound?]

[Sky Wyrm.]

[SKY WYRM? As in, a dragon?!]

[Hmmm, no. As in a Sky Wyrm. I do not know this dragon of which you speak.]

I nervously clean my antennae as I keep my eyes trained on the sky above. Sky Wyrm sounds a hell of a lot like a dragon to me. If it sounds like a dragon, then it might well look like a dragon, and at that point I don't particularly care what you call it, I don't want any part of it.

With a final glance upward, I follow along with the rest of the group as the Grove Keeper leads us confidently downward, eventually walking through a gap between two roots and then within the tangle. What I expected to be nothing more than a cramped maze of building sized roots was actually a surprisingly verdant and well lit cavern in which the bruan'chii apparently made their homes. The wood of their parent had been shaped into all sorts of abodes and a strange glowing fungus suffused the scene with a warm light. There were hundreds of the tree people here, abiding together in the quiet manner of their kind. Here and there the larger Keepers strolled, the plants glittering with energy and life wherever they went.

[This is Aruatha, one of our settlements. The main front isn't far from here. Mother wishes for you to use this place to house your siblings, though we ask that you do not dig or use the roots as materials.]

[I mean… obviously.]

As much as not digging pains us, we aren't going to start eating the wood, how would that make us different that the termite scum!?