Welcome to the 7th Floor of the Realm Dungeon!

There are changes to the rules on this floor:

There is no longer a dungeon-supported central village. However, the restriction on violence still applies to the portal platform and within any dungeon structure under the control of a dungeon golem.

Do not restrict another challenger’s access to the kiosk.

The zones on this floor are individual challenges. Parties entering a zone will be separated into unique instances.

Safe zones without dungeon spawns are located between zone stages. As a reminder, safe zones are communal areas that do not restrict challenger violence.

You may leave the dungeon at any time via the central portal.

Upon reaching Tier Eight, you have 100 hours to exit the floor. Failure to comply will result in ejection from the dungeon without the benefits associated with reaching the Eighth Floor.

Reminder: the Accords still apply.

Ascend swiftly, Challenger!

The bold text kept me from dismissing the notification outright, but I still only skimmed the notification. With my processing speed and dual thought capabilities, that was more than enough to understand the changes.

“If the zones are instanced, you won’t be able to join me,” Zavira pointed out as we stepped forward and got out of the way of any potential new arrivals.

“That’s true,” I said disappointedly.

I had hoped that Zavira and I could continue fighting together, but it seemed the dungeon was going to force us to work separately. At least we’d be able to meet up in the city and in safe zones – when we eventually reached them.

Based on the feedback I was getting from Spatial Sense, my ability to teleport was going to be greatly hampered on this floor, which meant a lot of my advantages might be neutralized. From what I could sense, my ability to instantaneously move from one location to another was limited to the safe zone we were currently in.

While I could perceive the spatial distortions that likely led to the other areas, I couldn’t directly access them.

At least, not yet.

Maybe by the time we left the floor that would be different. It would certainly be an interesting challenge for my Space magic.

Thinking about the limitations a bit more, I said, “It also means my E3 talismans won’t work properly. I’ll have to figure out some kind of workaround, especially for the ‘escape’ portion.”

Zavira’s expression darkened slightly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. In the meantime, the added risk will be good for both of our development,” she said before glancing around. “Oh, some of the buildings are missing.”

I’d noticed the discrepancy when I evaluated our surroundings a few moments earlier, but I hadn’t really given it much thought. Now that Zavira pointed it out, I looked around and consciously noted the changes.

Of the four village buildings we’d become accustomed to seeing, only the Challenger Apartments were present in a familiar form. The Crafting Hall and Tavern were completely missing, and the Trading Post had turned into something more like a covered market with no walls.

The Trader dungeon golem was still present in one of the stalls, which was comforting. That meant that the small market should be one of the protected areas in the dungeon where challengers couldn’t attack each other.

There were a few people of varying species engaging in trades with each other or the golem, and nobody even bothered to glance in our direction as we stood on the platform.

Even more strange than the missing buildings, I noted there was a second portal right next to the one we’d arrived through.

“Is that the floor Trial?” Zavira asked with a raised brow when her eyes followed mine. “Nobody mentioned it being beside the arrival portal, and I made sure to ask specifically about the Trial.”

“Maybe it relocated while they were gone?” I theorized with a shrug.

Zavira frowned. “Perhaps,” she said before stepping closer to the mass of swirling purple mana. She reached out to touch the portal and, after a moment, sighed heavily. “It has a level requirement, just like the last one.”

“That’s different from what we were told,” I commented, though I couldn’t say I was upset about the new restriction.

Gaining access to the Trial would be a good source of motivation. And once it was complete, we would be close to reaching our target floor.

My companion nodded. “It seems like quite a bit of our information about the floor is outdated.”

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“That’s to be expected. Let’s look around and talk to some people,” I said before glancing at the Challenger Apartments behind us. “We should probably get rooms first, just to get it out of the way.”

Zavira didn’t disagree, so we stepped off the platform and headed toward the moderately-sized apartment building.

“Nobody mentioned how small the city was,” Zavira commented during the short walk as her eyes took in our surroundings. “I don’t see any tall buildings at all.”

“It does look more like a town instead of a city,” I agreed. “I expected it to be larger since there are no other cities on the floor. But I guess being able to leave the dungeon would offset some of the population buildup. I wonder why more of the locals don’t leave.”

“They probably can’t,” Zavira said as she stepped through the automatic door leading into the familiar building. “Being born in a Tier Seven zone isn’t the same as actually reaching Tier Seven as far as mana resistance goes. Anyone born on this floor would probably still die on Sira, and it would be really painful.”

I hummed in thought for a moment and allowed one of my thought streams to focus on the possibility of creating [Mana Barriers] that would work for such people. With the right materials, I should be able to block enough ambient mana to allow anyone born on the floor to survive the Tier Ten environment outside of the dungeon.

While those thoughts percolated, I dealt with the fairly easy chore of obtaining housing for the foreseeable future. The golem was familiar with us, so it took little to register for our new rooms.

Thankfully, we’d collected enough funds while on the last floor to cover the first year or so of rent. The cost was lower – relatively – than it had been on the previous floor, but that was not really a surprise, given the rampant inflation on the sixth floor.

After reserving our rooms, Zavira and I headed to the market to see what we could learn about our new home.

We talked to several people as we meandered from one side of the small market to the other. I quickly realized that our arrival hadn’t gone as unnoticed as I thought, and several people were eager to talk to the ‘new blood’ on the floor.

It didn’t take long to discover that more than sixty percent of the people on the floor were active challengers. The other forty percent was comprised of children and the low-tier descendants of challengers who had no desire to become challengers themselves.

Most of the non-challengers lived on the outskirts of town, and, from what I inferred, they primarily dealt with farming or working basic service jobs to support the challengers on the floor.

Some were involved in crafting as well, but all of them tended to stick to themselves. In many ways, the sub-Tier Seven population was like a little community unto itself.

I was honestly a little shocked at the demographics on the floor, especially after seeing how many regular civilian dungeoneers lived on the mid-tier floors. Aside from the lack of leveling opportunities, I didn’t notice anything to really justify the floor having so few non-challenger residents.

“I can’t believe the only forms of entertainment the town has are a couple of bars and a brothel,” Zavira grumbled as we headed back toward the apartments. “And there are only five restaurants to pick from! Five!” she emphasized. “Thank the Ascenders that we have MealMakers! Being forced to eat the same things all the time would be torture.”

I chuckled at Zavira’s melodramatic outburst. “You do realize we’re in a dungeon, right?”

“Of course! But all the other floors have had better amenities,” she replied. “Where are all of the crafters and other non-combat professionals seeking to ascend? Why aren’t there more of them? I kind of understand with fighters who don’t want to fight alone, but non-combatants should be flocking to the floor with how safe it is.”

“How would they get their alternate experience?” I asked as we veered around the open market.

“What does that matter?” Zavira replied as she shook her head. “Either they stall at Tier Six and remain trapped in the dungeon, or they advance as far as they can in almost complete safety and then they can leave the dungeon and get help with their alternate level.”

“I’m sure there’s a reason,” I said before my attention was drawn by a shout coming from behind us.

“Disciple Epikairos! I challenge you to a duel!”

I turned to see a robed elven disciple running in my direction with a look of accomplishment. He was being followed by two non-sect-affiliated elves wearing more common attire.

I’d never seen the individual before, but I was familiar with the colors and emblem he wore.

“On what grounds?” I asked the arrogant disciple.

I’d been given several lessons on sect etiquette, so I knew that, by tradition, the elf couldn’t demand a duel for no reason. Since I’d only just arrived on the floor, it was unlikely the disciple would have any real justification for his demand.

The only grounds he might have required calling upon the long-standing enmity between our sects. I was curious if he would use such a justification since losing would be detrimental to his sect’s image.

“I don’t need grounds to deal with trash like you,” the elf sneered.

“You challenged me to a duel,” I reminded him. “That requires justification. Surely, you haven’t been stalled in the dungeon for so long that you’ve forgotten?” I added sweetly.

The elf reddened slightly, but he didn’t attack. Attacking after challenging someone to a duel without following the proper protocol would be immensely embarrassing to his sect.

Had we not been in a dungeon being observed by an unknown number of people, the elf may have discarded propriety and attacked anyway. But with outside observers, he wouldn’t be able to risk the dishonor such an act would bring.

“Fine,” the elven disciple nearly spat. “I challenge you on the grounds that your sect violates the most basic tenets of my sect, and that your very existence is an affront to every long-lived species in the universe.”

“Wow,” I breathed out in surprise. “You guys really hate Time Mages that much, huh? I can’t believe you all get so offended because a few non-elves might live for as long as you do,” I said.

Not every elf felt that way, but members of the Sovereignty Sect were notorious Elf Supremacists who believed that their naturally long lifespans made them inherently superior to every other race.

Only dragons naturally lived longer, but they were considered to be in their own category, and these guys reportedly hated them, too.

“I care not for your words,” the elf said haughtily. “Accept my challenge and die with honor or decline like a coward and I’ll kill you anyway. Either way, the universe will heal a little more today.”

I didn’t resist rolling my eyes at the arrogant elf. I’d been warned about people like him. I wasn’t sure how he found out about my arrival so quickly, but that didn’t matter much at the moment.

“Shall we exit the town to prevent unnecessary damage?” I asked primly, carefully not accepting the challenge just yet since it would justify an immediate attack.

I noticed that Zavira had discreetly stepped aside when the initial challenge was made. I wasn’t upset by her action. It was the right move to make, given the circumstances.

Interfering with a genuine challenge for a duel would have been grossly inappropriate, and I knew she’d been taught better.

Disciple Sovereignty’s yelling had drawn enough attention that we had a small crowd follow us as we exited the small village and headed toward the zone barrier.

I wasn’t sure which zone was in the direction we were heading, but it didn’t matter very much since I had no intention of going that far.

As we walked, I equipped several items and infused mana into my robes to reinforce the enchantments. My robes had already made the shift to Tier Seven, which didn’t surprise me. The robes were some of the most quickly growing items I owned, indicating they were likely originally crafted at a higher tier.

“This is far enough,” the disciple said, clearly becoming impatient now that his enemy seemed within his grasp.

I’d never understood that kind of zealous hatred. Maybe it wasn’t hatred, so much as fanaticism.

I stopped and turned around. I was as ready as I could be.