“We must hurry!”

Aerion grabbed my arm, pulling me up the final stairs. Lacking any ability to protest, I let him.

When Aerion warned me that every floor was unique, I thought I’d understood. Different monsters, different biomes—maybe a jungle, or perhaps volcanic mountains. And when he said we’d emerge at the bottom of a sea, I’d pictured fish and whales and rays of sunlight dancing on a sandy ocean floor.

After a full two hours of stair-climbing agony, I hadn't expected to emerge into an endless expanse of thick, black nothing.

Aerion threw me a frustrated look for what had to be the hundredth time. A look that said ‘How could anyone be so unfit?’

“Emma’s chances of survival diminish by the minute!”

I didn't have the energy to reply. Drenched in sweat and dry retching—I’d barfed up all of my stomach’s contents long ago—I had my hands full just staying conscious.

Lying sprawled out on the ground, I stared up at the glass walls of the tube-like tunnel that ran along the seafloor. That glass was the only thing keeping the air in and the water out. It was like those tunnels at aquariums you could walk through and look up at all the sea life above you.

At least I assumed it was water out there; through the glass, I saw only inky blackness, the only light coming from the sconces embedded into the tube-tunnel’s floor at regular intervals. The tunnel stretched off into the distance, leading to who knew where. If I strained my eyes, I could see the lights of similar tunnels outside, running parallel to ours on the seafloor.

I couldn’t even imagine how much it would have cost to build something like this. Though, I supposed cost wasn’t exactly a concern to gods.

It was the metal rail embedded into the floor that ultimately caught my eye, though. It looked suspiciously like a monorail train track, but instead of a smooth track, it had notches at regular intervals, like the teeth of a gear.

Which meant this was basically a subway train line that ran along the bottom of an ocean. I didn’t see a platform or any rail cars nearby.

“Is it just me, or is this place spookier than the caverns on the last floor?” I asked.

“Are you perhaps afraid of water?”

“It’s not water I’m worried about, but pressure. If that glass cracks, we’re dead meat. Squashed like pancakes. You know that, right?”

My words came out in halting bursts. Even minutes later, I still hadn't recovered from the exertion.

This was despite a couple of welcome System Messages that had popped up a few minutes apart:

Congratulations! Vigor has increased to 6.

Congratulations! Vigor has increased to 7.

It’d happened shortly after we’d started up the stairs, I’d received a second wind… Which lasted all of about fifteen minutes.

This is pathetic. Fuck.

I’d barely made it two flights after that happened before my heart felt like it’d leap out of my chest, and I’d had to take breaks every floor from then on. Aerion was patient at first, but by the fiftieth floor, he was convinced there was something seriously wrong with me.

“These tunnels were forged by Dominion himself. Nothing short of a god could break them. Rather I feel it is your own body you ought to worry about,” Aerion said, pointing a finger at my chest.

I couldn’t even argue. I was no athlete, but he was right. I was never this bad. There was something going on here, and all signs pointed to my abysmal stats. It had to be. Especially after that sudden boost.

The only reason I hadn’t considered it earlier was because if that was the case, it should also have affected my reasoning skills. It hadn’t. I didn't feel any less alert, at least. Though, now that I thought about it, hurling that bone club had really taken it out of me as well. I’d chalked it up to its weight, but maybe it wasn’t the club that was heavy—maybe my arms were just too weak.

Aerion looked like he was questioning my sanity when I asked him about the various stats and how they corresponded to each of the gods. He said nothing like that existed in this world, and that I was either making stuff up, or it was a quirk of the particular blessing that I possessed. I was beginning to suspect he thought I was crazy.

At least I’d learned—the hard way—that stats didn’t automatically go up when leveled. At least, mine didn’t. They had to be earned. Whatever my stats were doing to my body, I had to level them—fast. And the only way that was happening was by Initializing gear.

Well that, and somehow finding a way to use the Soul Crystal from the Obsidian Troll I’d obtained, but both Aerion and the item description said they were just valuable trinkets. For now, the gear I would find on the sixth floor may very well determine whether I got out of this dungeon alive or not.

“I gotta say, I’d never expect gobbos to make their home in a place like this.”

I stood up painfully, silently wishing we had some of that safe room miracle water handy. I was utterly spent.

“Sorry? Gobbos?” Aerion asked.

“Goblins. That’s what we call them back home.”

The goblins that I’d encountered on the fifth floor had originally been from this one. They’d chased Aerion all the way down those stairs.

“You remember your home, then?” Aerion said excitedly. “Are your memories returning?”

“Oh, er, no. At least, I don’t think,” I said, awkwardly scratching my neck. “Just some things. Bits and pieces.”

Good job, Greg. I needed to mind my words around this elf more. He was nothing if not perceptive.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Oh,” Aerion replied, his ears drooping sadly.

Which just reminded me of the lie I’d spun. It was like telling someone you had dementia.

“Well,” Aerion continued, “the goblins don’t live here. They live in the abyssal castles.”

“Er, did I hear that right? Castles?” I asked. “Last I checked, we were at the bottom of an ocean.”

“Yes. Castles built on the ocean floor. These tunnels all lead to different ones. Each castle is unique, each with its own variety of monsters.”

I looked at the string of lights that disappeared into the distance. “I… see,” I said slowly. I wasn’t expecting a castle down here. Let alone multiple. I wondered how one went about clearing this floor, and where the entrance to the next floor lay.

“So, what now?” I asked. “Where to?”

“Emma’s being held in the first castle down the line, but to get there, we’ll need a Cog Cart.”

Aerion looked around with an unhappy expression. “The one I used to flee down to the fifth floor seems to have gone missing. We have no choice but to find one.”

“Where would we find these carts? We can’t just walk?” I asked, noting his reluctance when talking about Emma, but I could hardly blame him. Poor guy was probably beside himself worrying about her, though I did have to wonder what the heck he was thinking coming down—or, up—here with his friend without support.

Which made me think Emma was some kind of kickass powerhouse, but Aerion refused to breathe a word about her. Still, I was just happy at the idea of adding a third member to our little party. The more the merrier, and the higher our chances of getting out alive.

“No,” Aerion said, frowning in thought. “The distance is too vast. While the nearest castle lies just a few miles away, the gap between each grows the farther out one ventures. Nearly a hundred miles lie between the seventh and eighth, separated by deep trenches and tall undersea mountain peaks.”

I whistled. How big was this floor? And could we really explore it all? If we had a submarine, could we strike out in any direction for a hundred miles? Could we rise to the surface? What would we find there?

My suspicion, however, was that much of it was faked. Otherwise, the amount of effort required to construct a place like this would be unfathomable. Sure, Cosmo had shown me some pretty impressive tricks, but were the gods here really that powerful?

I also deduced that the exit to this floor lay at the last castle. Just a hunch, but if there was a game that didn’t force you through every passage, room, and boss fight the developers painstakingly created, I sure hadn’t played it.

“We may find one lying around if we’re lucky, but otherwise, we’ll have to steal one from one of the Cogyards attached to each castle.”

I’d kept the elf waiting long enough. “Then let’s go.”

----------------------------------------

My mind wandered as we walked, our footsteps clacking on the pristine hard floor. I couldn’t tell whether it was metal or stone, though it looked a bit like those quartz countertops that were popular in high-end kitchens.

The tube around us was entirely transparent, doing nothing to shield us from the black abyss that hung just on the other side. While I didn’t see any giant squid or whale-sized horrors of the deep, it was all too easy to imagine them. Lurking in that black nothingness, waiting to pounce.

I opened up my HUD and went through my abilities, mulling over how best to maximize this unique Blessing I’d obtained. I'd recently concluded that, unlike most classes, mine depended less on its level, and more on the quality of my Initialized gear. That included both the benefits my gear gave me, and how well-optimized my Essence pool was. Right now, it wasn't optimized at all—more than half remained unutilized.

What I needed most was to fight monsters, but not just any monster. I needed monsters that left behind parts I could fashion into either weapons or armor. Parts that would bestow stats as well as abilities.

“Say, how valuable are the corpses of monsters? Do delvers ever bring them back out to sell?”

“I'd say they're invaluable,” Aerion replied. “Because no one has ever succeeded in doing so. While corpses can be taken from one level to another, the moment the delver exits the Trial, they disappear.”

I halted, causing Aerion to bump into me.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Nearly every delver tries. Many of the best materials are unique to Trial Worlds, so some even try swallowing bits of horns and tusks, but it’s no use.”

“So you're saying there's no way to make a sword or armor using the metals found in here?”

“No. That is, in fact, the only way around this restriction,” Aerion replied. “Materials may not be removed, but any items crafted within the dungeon remain when the delvers leave.”

I laughed, resuming walking. “That’d put blacksmiths willing to risk their lives in pretty high demand wouldn't it?”

Aerion’s eyes bulged. “The Blacksmith’s Guild is one of the most powerful organizations in all of Arvandor.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “How’d you know?” he asked more guardedly. “I thought you’d lost your memories?”

“Well, it’s obvious,” I replied, making sure not to miss a beat. “I don't know how good these Boons and Blessings are, but it sounds like you can only get a handful per Trial World. A team of blacksmiths, on the other hand, could set up a workshop and make dozens, if not hundreds, of weapons from the looted monsters. They’d just have to hire enough help to keep them safe and bring back a steady supply of materials.”

An advantage I share, I thought. No, what I had was even better. If I did manage to incorporate exotic materials into weapons or armor, they’d all have the potential to grow far stronger than anything a normal smith could create. From everything Aerion told me, living, leveling weapons weren’t a thing in this world.

“That’s exactly correct,” Aerion said, his suspicion seemingly diffused. For now. “Delver master smiths are one of the highest regarded professions in the world, though very few exist. Master smiths usually own their workshops and make enough that most of them don’t even think of delving.”

“Lemme guess,” I said. “The best smiths are all dwarves, aren’t they?”

“Sorry?” Aerion asked. “Dwarves?”

“Yeah. I feel like I vaguely recall something about short, stocky people with massive beards and a penchant for drinking.”

“I have never heard of such a creature,” Aerion replied. “Besides, why would a single race dominate any profession, unless they had a physical advantage? Humans, elves, and giants all craft exquisite weapons!”

There was so much there to unpack, it took me a second to know where to begin.

“Alright, let’s start with the giants. You’re telling me you have sapient giants? How big are we talking? Like, human plus? Or mountain mover size? Now I really can’t wait to—!?”

Aerion grabbed my arm and shoved me against the tunnel, a finger to his lip.

I nodded, then followed his gaze down the tunnel. In the distance, barely even visible, was a cluster of lights.

Aerion took the lead, and I followed close behind. We edged closer until it became clear what we were looking at.

A cog railway station, with a half-dozen mining carts just sitting there, ripe for the taking.

There was just one problem. Three dozen goblins swarmed around them, barking orders and hefting some sort of ore.

“We should avoid them,” Aerion whispered.

I clasped his shoulder. “We fight.”

“Are you mad?”

“We fight,” I repeated. “Because if we’re gonna have any chance of saving your friend, I need to get stronger.”

Aerion wallowed, caution warring with instinct, so I sweetened the pot.

“Your clothes. How attached are you to them?” I asked.

“Why do you ask?”

I threw him my best million-dollar smile. “What if I told you I could make them a whole lot better?”