FINAL CORE - Chapter 20 (Patreon)

Fire lashes out all around us.

Tendrils of magma whip and strike, splashing a radiance out into all directions.

It sticks against their shields, against their armor, but the advance continues.

Floor five.

Floor ten.

Floor sixteen.

We proceed and progress and the core of the world, despite us delving deeper and deeper into the darkness, grows ever brighter.

The fires rise to meet us with every step. The heat comes to bathe us in its presence, as if it were the ocean. The light of every blaze shines to meet our eyes.

— And in every crackle of flame and behind every glimmer of a spark, lies a monster.

Six men died on the way to floor sixteen.

Six men more lay dead at my feet.

I look back behind myself at the troop of soldiers, collecting beneath the nourishing umbrella that an ice and a water caster are creating.

We’re not even close.

The core is still eighty-floor fours down.

We’re not even close.

~A charred journal, found outside of the greater Dragon’s Pit dungeon.

_______________________________________________

The blackbird ruffles its feathers, hunkering down and looking around the area.

Isaiah, watching through the eyes of a statue, ruffles the feathers of its own wings and lowers itself down more too, settling in for the night.

The blackbird closes its eyes, taking a rare chance to lower its guard and sleep for a little while.

Isaiah does the same, sparing one last glance at the collection of eggs.

__________________________________________________________

[Floor Seven]

The Lower Workings

Many waters flow through this hall, running through large, ornate pipes, which lead up to the floors above. An echo can be heard running through them. Several creatures run around, keeping everything in running shape.

 Capacity: {16} Monster-Points

1 TRAPS

• 16 [Indoctrinated Goblin]

 Room Effect: Scalding steam bursts out of the pipes at specific segments of the floor, dealing severe damage to anyone it touches.

 Monster-Point prices per monster

• F-Rank: 1
• D-Rank: 4
• C-Rank: 8
• B-Rank: 16
• A-Rank: 32
• S-Rank: 64
• SSS-Rank: 128

~ [Indoctrinated Goblin] ~

•  Class: Multidisciplinary (Scout/Caster)
• Element: None
• Type: Survivalist
• Category: Hominid
• Rank: F
• Level: 05

Goblins are small, elf-like creatures that tend to have far cruder mannerisms. It is rare to see a goblin alone. They survive in the wild in tribes and scout the landscapes around their cities in packs in search of food and materials. They have little industry and prefer to hunt and steal.

Goblins are able to communicate, but most prefer not to bother as they are viewed to be beneath polite society.

They have an affinity for shiny things, particularly things that look like mushrooms.

These goblins in particular have abandoned their forest beliefs and begun worshiping true divinity.

HP: 16/16

SOUL: 09/09

Isaiah looks at the goblins running around the tower. What an unusual sight.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Crystal. “They’re fake, just like the monks,” explains the uthra.

Isaiah nods, deciding to take Crystal’s advise.

“Why goblins?” asks Isaiah. It had summoned the creatures, but it was at Crystal’s request specifically.

“Well one, they’re cheap,” says Crystal. “Like slimes, goblins are just kind of not worth a lot in terms of the market,” it explains. “So we can get a lot of them.”

“— Are you a boy or a girl?” asks Isaiah, interrupting it.

Crystal floats there, a hand in the air, still mid-explanation. “Uh… random? But a boy? Obviously?”

Isaiah nods. “Continue.”

Crystal looks at Isaiah curiously and then he proceeds nonetheless. “But they’re dynamic little things and they fit in with the theme.”

Isaiah looks at a goblin. It’s standing there, striking a pipe with a hammer. “I am unsure,” says Isaiah, watching it achieve nothing, except to make some noise.

“No, no, believe me!” reassures Crystal. “We’ll play up the whole spiel of conversion,” he explains. “Like ‘even these dumb goblins came to work at the tower’,” says the uthra.

Isaiah stares for a while. “…So?” It tilts its head.

How unusual. Crystal is usually never a let down.

“So!” says Crystal. When the other goblins from the forest get up here to see them, they’ll think we’re on the side of their weird goblin god and they’ll start protecting us!” Crystal taps its head. “It’s free recruitment!”

Isaiah thinks for a while.

“…Crystal.”

“Yeah?” asks the uthra.

Isaiah looks at a pair of goblins running by. One of them trips, striking its head on a pipe. Feeling them watching, its friend grabs it and they run off. “The last goblins didn’t make it past floor four. This is floor seven.”

“Have I ever let you down?” asks Crystal.

Isaiah turns back to look at the one goblin, who is still hammering the pipe. Though Isaiah really has no idea to what end. Maybe it just wants to look busy?

“I will trust in you, Crystal,” says Isaiah. “But if the goblins fail, I will replace them.”

“Sure, sure. About that,” says Crystal. “Floor eight.”

It buzzes off and Isaiah flies after, listening to the sound of pointless, busy-work hammering from behind itself.

___________________________________________________________

[Floor Eight]

The Upper Workings

Water rushes into this room through a series of pipes from below. A constantly burning magical furnace pushes steam upwards to the floor above. The remaining water surges out of fountains. Given the space needed for the pipes, the floor consists solely of long, square treacherous walkways.

 Capacity: {18} Monster-Points

1 TRAPS

• 18 [Indoctrinated Goblins]

 Room Effect: Violently rushing water moving through the pipes makes it impossible to hear anyone speaking in this room.

Monster-Point prices per monster

• F-Rank: 1
• D-Rank: 4
• C-Rank: 8
• B-Rank: 16
• A-Rank: 32
• S-Rank: 64
• SSS-Rank: 128

Isaiah sighs, looking at floor eight. By all measures, it is a very nicely designed floor.

Floor seven is visible from up here, as this floor, eight, is another ‘bridge’ floor. But here the bridge is an odd construction that goes in all manner of directions. Sometimes it goes left. Sometimes it goes right. Sometimes it branches off and leads right into the wall of the tower. But always in square, non-curved segments.

Massive, ornate pipes run through the area, letting out an extremely loud hissing noise, as they rush water towards the floor above.

— But it’s full of goblins.

“I know what you’re thinking!” says Crystal. “Why the heck are there so many goblins here? Again?!” asks the uthra enthusiastically.

“— How are we able to speak?” asks Isaiah, looking at the loud pipes. The effect of this floor should muffle their voices.

“It’s just you and us who can. Dungeon-magic. Anyway,” says Crystal. “It’s because this floor and the lower one fit together as a design with the one above, so it needs to have goblins!”

Isaiah groans, unsure. “I would prefer gargoyles,” it says, pointing at the ledges. “Give them all bows. They will shoot any intruders off the bridge.” It lifts its head. “Actually, add a priestess for the walls too.” Looking down at the narrow walkway, such a combination would be viciously deadly.

Hell. Even a golem would be a monstrosity on a floor like this, where it can knock people down a floor.

“You’re right in thinking that,” says Crystal, reading Isaiah’s thoughts again. “There are much better and more creative combinations of monsters, BUT!” Isaiah lifts an eyebrow. “— Just trust me on this one, okay?”

Isaiah shrugs. “I will. But I will remove them if they do not aid the tower,” it says. “With the graveyard stronger, undead are stronger than ever.”

“No, no, no!” snaps Crystal, flying away to floor nine. “We can’t overuse the undead, even if they’re strong. Thematic design comes first!”

“Then why the goblins?” asks Isaiah. “Golems are much prettier.”

“Because we need them! Cover your ears, by the way.”

Isaiah rolls its eyes and flies after Crystal to floor nine.

___________________________________________________________

It should have covered its ears.

Isaiah winces, recoiling as a harpy shriek fills its head and it quickly lifts its hands to its head.

[Floor Nine]

The Cathedral Organry

A large, ornate cathedral. On the far end, upon an elevated platform, sits an organist behind a grand organ and a choir, composed of members of all species and races of the faith.

 Capacity: {20} Monster-Points

1 TRAPS

• [Indoctrinated Goblins]
• [Shadowy Monks]
• [Shadowy priestesses]
• [Rorate]

 Room Effect: Members of the choir will become aggressive in waves, moving down to attack any intruders. The waves must all be cleared within 05:00 minutes, or the organist will respawn all members of the choir.

However, every monster will respawn after

 Monster-Point prices per monster

• F-Rank: 1
• D-Rank: 4
• C-Rank: 8
• B-Rank: 16
• A-Rank: 32
• S-Rank: 64
• SSS-Rank: 128

The room is a more advanced version of the prayer hall found down on floor three. This is a grand, ornate set-up that looks like a grand, ancient cathedral. Ornate statues and gargoyles line the walls. Colorful glass windows streak the walls of the tower, showing artistic visions of happenings past and future. Resounding voices ring around the cathedral, as the group of monsters sing a hymn, accompanying the playing of a massive steam-pipe organ in the back, behind the altar.

So this is where the pipes from the last two floors lead.

As for the ear-piercing shrieking. It isn’t a ghost or the organ or any of the choir, it’s Rorate.

“Stop! Stop!” says Crystal, waving his hands and flying towards them.

The music stops.

Isaiah tilts its head, rubbing its ear as it follows and looks at Rorate. “Why are you here?” it asks her.

The dark-elf smiles, lowering her hood. A strand of white hair falls past her face. “I was practicing to sing in the choir!” says Rorate.

Isaiah stares at her.

Does singing count as praying? Perhaps. Maybe in that case it doesn’t matter what floor she’s on. Though it is unsafe for her to be on a combat floor.

Isaiah realizes it has never seen Rorate fight. But didn’t she clear floor one by herself while it wasn’t watching? While she was inebriated? There must be something to her in that case, or?

“Weren’t you leaving?” asks Isaiah.

Rorate nods. “I was. But Crystal asked me to stay here until the floor was done, so you could see,” she explains, proudly. “Was I good?” she asks, her fingers clasping together. “I’ve been practicing all night!”

Isaiah stares at her for a moment.

It places a taloned hand on Rorate’s shoulder. “…You have a passionate heart,” says Isaiah, nodding. “When you travel, listen to the blackbirds sing,” it says. Maybe she’ll learn a thing or two about singing if she listens to some professionals?

Isaiah thinks for a time.

Can it still sing?

It was very good at singing as a bird. Not so much as a human though.

Hmm…

Rorate beams, not able to contain her joy, despite her best efforts to maintain a composed demeanor.

“I’ll get going then! Be back soon!”

“Safe travels,” says Isaiah, watching her run down the staircase.

— She trips and stumbles down them, falling straight into a basin of holy water.

“…Are you well?”

Rorate laughs, getting up and shaking herself out, pulling herself out of the water for the first time by herself. “I’m fine!” she says, and leaves the floor through a door on the side.

“That’s one of the new shortcuts,” says Crystal. “Anyway, what do you think?”

Isaiah looks back towards the choir. “This is why the goblins. We’ll fill the tower with a bunch of different stuff like goblins and humans and elves,” explains Crystal, flying up to one of the shadowy monks and lifting its hood. An orc lies beneath. “That’ll sell the image of the holy tower uniting everyone in faith, you know?” asks Crystal, proudly. “Plus the cathedral floor here syncs up then with number ten, above,” it says, pointing to the ceiling.

Isaiah nods, pleased after all, despite its ringing ears.

“The adventurers will fear Rorate,” it says, wondering how a human will react when it reaches floor nine, only to hear the siren wail of a mourning banshee.

“Rorate? Hah! They’re going to be crapping their pants about the boss,” it says. “Come on, Gray and White got the bell ready!” it explains in excitement. This proposition fills Isaiah with excitement too. The bell will be a powerful feature in expediting their growth.

They move up one more floor, through the staircase behind the organ, which resumes playing as they leave.

______________________________________

Rorate can’t help but keep smiling as she walks out of the tower.

“Here, take this,” says a voice next to her. She looks. It’s Teal. “It’ll make things easier for you.”

“Thanks, Tea-tea!” says Rorate in delight, taking the very nicely made rucksack from the small, glowing entity. “That’s really sweet of you!”

“No problem, Rory!” says Teal, flying off and waving. “You owe me now, so you better come back!”

Rorate tilts her head and then shakes it.

— What a world.

A few weeks ago she was trying to kill herself with poison and now, here she is. A divine entity told her she has a good heart. It compared her voice to that of a bird and she’s becoming friends with magical creatures who like to give her presents.

She slings the bag over her shoulder and heads to the anqa pen, wondering if she maybe really isn’t just delusional?

The witch, to the east of here. She’s a bit of an oddball and she had paid her a heavy price for that mushroom-brew. But for an anqa, she’s sure that she can get something good for her savior and patron from her.

She saddles up on one of the anqas, which clicks its beak in agitation at her disturbing it. But it cooperates and they ride off, bounding across some stones in the river with ease. They break into the thick forest, heading to a dark place in the east; a place she is heading to for a second time now.

But this time, for a nobler reason.