Chapter 695 - Mistake made perfect

Welcome to the 4th floor of the First Dungeon!

There are no safe zones on this floor.

4th Floor quest: Permanently sacrifice 15 stat points at The Quiet Circle

Rewards:

14-day Stay Token

100,000 shards

Activation stone for the portal to the 5th floor

I had heard about this “quest” before, but a part of me always suspected it might just be a joke Weslin was trying to drag me into. Reading it now though…

"I told you," he says at my side, already knowing what is going through my head. "But let’s get to the Megacity before something finds us outside."

"Attendees really do not fuck with names," I mumble as I follow behind him, only the two of us appearing here.

"I thought you preferred it that way. Said it was easier to remember."

"That doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it."

He mumbles something, probably an insult thrown my way, but while we run, I keep examining the fourth floor, or at least what I can see of it. We are currently inside a canyon, its walls rising miles into the sky, towering over us like cliffs of stone. The place is enormous, oppressive, yet strangely still.

Soon after, we exit that canyon only to enter a wide valley surrounded by even taller walls, enclosing us on all sides.

The mountains and cliffs look fairly normal at first glance, just scaled up to absurd levels. The valleys are covered in greenery, knee-high grass, patches of shrubs, even exotic trees all around, or somehow growing out of rock itself.

We keep running for more than ten minutes, and I do not see a single bigger plain or open flatland. Mountains crowd the horizon in every direction, as if the map creator got drunk and scattered them everywhere like a lunatic. It is just as Weslin described. And, as he said, we do not meet any monsters this close to the Megacity. We even pass a few attendees heading out on hunts, a reminder that the areas nearest to the city are kept safer.

The fourth floor used to be unlivable thousands of years ago. Beyond explorers or descendants of attendees who came here almost always died, unable to resist the monsters or establish any footholds without the protection of safe zones. Back then, they were forced to hide in caves, build tiny camps, and never move in large groups for fear of drawing the monsters that loved hunting them down.

That was until she entered the fourth floor. The currently strongest Local in the Beyond. The Pathfinder Thane.

She started the same way as everyone else, hiding in caves, burrowing underground, running from monsters with nowhere to stay for long. But her story stretches across decades. She gathered other Locals, sometimes earned help from early attendees, and slowly building up her forces.

Still, it was not all teamwork and happy cooperation. No, it was her power that made it possible. Her power and her power alone. Daughter of two powerful attendees who had died in beyond long ago, she grew into something beyond them. People were drawn to her like moths to flame, and under her lead, they carved out what became the first real base here: the Megacity. Not a safe zone, but a city, guarded by her.

We exit another canyon, and the view opens.

The Megacity does not look like something planned. It looks like something that just happened. Built where the canyon widens into a massive bowl-shaped valley, the place feels half-carved, half-grown out of the mountain itself.

The outer zones sprawl across wide terraces stacked against the canyon walls like the steps of a giant staircase. They are packed with rough housing, stalls, forges, and crowds of people. These layers look newer, pieced together from stone, bone, wood, and scavenged metal.

The deeper you go, the more ordered the city becomes. The middle zones climb higher up the terraces, fortified with walls and guarded gates, streets paved with cobblestones worn smooth by countless steps. These parts feel older.

Above them sits the upper city, carved directly into the cliffside. Wide balconies, fortifications, and halls cut into the rock itself, lit by glowing lights. According to Weslin, this is where the old families and the rich live, where guild branches are set up, and where the descendants of Thane’s first companions have their residences.

At the very center, on the highest plateau, lies the innermost zone. Safest, most beautiful, most luxurious, the place where Handlers are rumored to gather. Its gates are marked by the skeletal remains of something colossal, half a ribcage arching overhead, bone fused with stone, bleached white against the dark cliffs.

Some say it belonged to a Champion-grade monster Thane slew when defending the city during a month-long siege. Others whisper it was already here, buried in the rock long before the dungeon itself formed. Either way, the bones are bigger than buildings, and their shadow looms across the inner city like a permanent reminder of her power.

From outside, the Megacity looks like a great spiral fortress climbing the canyon wall, layers upon layers, chaotic yet holding some strange order. And above it all, like a crown, sits her residence, cut into the highest ridge, overseeing everything below.

Both me and Weslin enter the Megacity without much trouble, though I immediately sense multiple scans and marks placed on me, the same kind Spark and Marble spoke about back on the second floor of the Beyond.

Just as it looked from a distance, the zones farthest from the Pathfinder’s keep are the newest and likely the least safe. Still, I doubt the others would just sit back and watch monsters chew through the outer districts without lifting a finger.

Slowly, the mood shifts the deeper we go. The difference this time is that we get stopped by guards more often as we pass through the gates, with marks on us changing to grant temporary access to each new zone as we head toward our guild branch. The deeper we go, the prettier and cleaner everything becomes, and the more expensive the residences are.

It is possible to buy a residence permit or get one from your Handler as a reward, and even those are split into tiers, low-end, mid-end, and high-end. There are even rumors of “named” residences—ten of them in total—almost impossible to obtain, even for S-ranks.

The city itself is divided in a similar way. Low city, mid city, high city, and the inner city, where Handlers are rumored to live as well. With Weslin, I pass into the high city and toward the guild branch located there.

The street is quiet, lined with tall green trees, the color standing out sharply against pale gray stone. Vines climb the walls, adding streaks of red, purple, and gold. Immediately, I notice other guild branches as well, Bloodline, Frontier, and Crimson Forge. Every guild inside the top ten has a presence here, along with a few other ones.

Our branch is not as large as the one on the third floor in the Black Tower city. Just a black gate that leads into a pathway through a small, well-kept garden and then to a multi-story building in the center. Behind it lies a terrace and a few sparring areas.

Inside, the place is not overly decorated. In fact, there is almost no decoration at all. Just stone that radiates a sense of firmness and copper-colored inscriptions etched into the walls, with soft lights framing the hallways. The open rooms have sparse furniture in white and pale blue, the same colors as our guild uniforms, the same as what I wear now.

All the demons here behave themselves. Tame, almost. No one raises their voice. No one tries to challenge me. They just move about quietly, doing their jobs.

As we pass through the rooms, we come across Morwag. He sits in a white armchair that looks too small for him and talks with a demon woman at his side. When he spots us, he gestures casually in greeting.

"Nyssa is in the garden," he says simply, then turns back to his conversation. The woman gives us a lingering look as we pass.

Through another long hallway, we finally end up alone. Weslin glances at me, opening his mouth like he wants to say something, but then he shuts it again. Without a word, he opens a door and gestures for me to step into the garden while he stays behind.

The garden is not large, framed on three sides by buildings. In the middle stands a single tree, its trunk surrounded by a circular patch of grass and a lone bench. The tree is pale white, its thick stump scarred by damage that split it in two. One half remains dead and hollow, while the other half grows into a new trunk, alive and strong.

As I walk past it, I catch its scent, it smells like freshly cut grass with a faint hint of citrus. I stop for a moment, taking a few deep breaths, then move toward the figure waiting at the far end.

Nyssa Volare stands at the fourth side of the garden. That side is open, not walled in by buildings, and instead reveals a view of the Megacity below and the valley framed by mountains. The square opening looks almost like a portal, a window cut out of the world.

When I approach, she turns. Nyssa is not much taller than Lily, petite even, and her appearance is what I would almost call albino. Her skin is unnaturally pale, her horns the same color, her eyebrows and eyelashes all white as well. The horns curve in a style similar to Vega’s, but they are a bit longer, and her left horn is shorter than her right. Her hair is raven black, falling to the middle of her back. She wears the same style pale blue shirt and white pants I do.

Her eyes lock with mine. Unlike other demons, hers are of pale red, fading into white. The edges burn crimson, but near the pupil, the color turns pale until it forms a white ring around her irises.

And she smiles. It is not sarcastic, not fake. It is almost gentle, a true smile. Like sunshine.

"You have very pretty eyes," she says, her voice soft, matching that smile. She takes a step closer. "I am Nyssa Volare. I am happy to finally meet you, Nathaniel."

Somewhat awkwardly, I take her offered hand and shake it. "Nathaniel Gwyn. Nice meeting you."

She lets go and steps back, the view of the city and valley framing her from behind. She stands close to the edge of the stone platform with no railing, nothing between her and the drop.

"Do you have any questions for me?" Nyssa asks playfully. Her eyes dart around like those of a hyperactive child, trying to catch on something amusing.

"I heard you need me on the fifth floor," I answer.

Her eyes tick back to me as she half-smiles. "I do, but that will have to wait for now. Just do your best to survive until then. But that wasn’t all you wanted to ask, right?"

I shake my head. "I heard you have three energies. Kinetic and two rare ones. I’ve only heard of one other person with three."

"Professor Feran from the Academy, isn’t it?" Nyssa nods slowly. "What a tame lost demon that man was. But you are right, I have three. Would you really like to know them?"

I keep watching her, searching for a flicker of danger in her tone, a shadow of hostility, a crack in her composure. Yet there is nothing at all. And slowly, painfully, I understand why.

Nyssa does not see me as a threat. Not even a tiny bit. She looks at me the same way I would look at a child without any powers.

"Yes," I manage to say, the words catching in my throat.

She gives a short laugh, tilts her head, and nods. "One of them is Primordial Blood. The other I will keep to myself. But Nathaniel, if you tell anyone, I will be angry."

"I’ll keep that to myself," I answer.

"Good. You can go now, and please send in Weslin as you leave."

I do exactly as told. Out in the hallway, I slump into a chair just as Weslin enters the garden behind me.

Only then do I notice what my body has been doing on its own. My Mana Wavelength iris is flared open to its absolute limit. The second seal on my Ignition Heart is still lifted, pulsing violently. A black halo spins above my head, while kinetic energy bounces inside my body with every heartbeat.

I look at my hand trembling in front of me, and a rough laugh escapes me. Shaky and bitter.

***

An hour later, Weslin and I sit in one of the guild lounges when the notification appears.

Emergency Beyond Event in Progress!

Participation Parameters:

Location - Fourth Floor.

B-Rank and above.

All individuals currently engaged in the guild war declared by the Eternal Court against the Primordial Knights, and all individuals interfering with the Ancient Armory located on the Fourth Floor.

Special Conditions:

S-Rank participants will be transferred to a separate event zone. They will be assigned higher-risk objectives that are distinct from those of lower-ranked participants.

Primary Objective:

Prevent the Ancient Armory threat from awakening, escaping, and annihilating all Locals and Attendees present on the Fourth Floor.

Time Constraint:

Maximum duration: seven days. Duration may be reduced without prior notification.

Rewards:

None, other than what can be taken during the Beyond Event itself.

Note from the Ruler issuing this event:

It’s your fault this is happening, so you better take care of it or die. - Ruler of Diligence

Do you wish to participate? You have ten seconds to decide.

Yes / No

I glance at Weslin. He stares back with a shrug, then taps at something in the air. A few seconds later, I do the same. The moment I confirm, a pull drags me away, and I vanish, reappearing in a wide underground hall. At its center rises a massive stone pillar, thick as a tower, with glowing vines spiraling upward.

Around me, people are already gathered or are beginning to arrive, one after another. Some I recognize as Primordial Knights by their uniforms. Others belong to other groups, mercenaries, and different guild members. Just as the notice said, all of them are at least A-rank or B-rank, possibly even a few of the same bastards we fought against not that long ago.

"This will be a mess," Weslin mutters beside me, scanning the room.

Then, without warning, a severed finger drops onto the floor in front of us with a soft plop.

I stare at it.

Weslin stares at it.

"Don’t eat it!" I shout at Weslin.

"Motherfucker, I did it only onc..."

Before he can finish, a figure grows out of the finger. A woman, black-haired and beautiful, roughly my height. Her eyes are brown, with one lighter than the other. Her clothes are casual, comfortable, but well cared for. There is not a single piece of equipment on her body.

Her face lights up in a rare smile, and she opens her arms wide just as I rush forward. I pull her into a hug, feeling a smile climb on my lips.

"I’m not even surprised you’re here, Vic. How the hell did you get caught up in this?"

"It is a long story, but do not worry. I will tell you everything you want to know. For now, let’s head to the others. Gloria is there, and someone else I think you will want to meet."

"Sure. Weslin..."

"It’s fine. Just go. I’ll check on the others from the guild and regroup with you later." Weslin's voice is calm, but the surprise on his face is clear as his eyes flick from me to Vic and back again.

It’s probably rude not to introduce them right away, but I’m not exactly known for my social skills. Especially when I choose not to be.

I follow Vic through the growing crowd while talking to her. People around us are splitting into groups, forming circles, and scouting the area. She leads me toward a smaller group of about ten. Some I remember from the tournament. My eyes catch Gloria immediately, wearing an oversized pale yellow shirt with a crying cat printed on it.

But my focus drifts elsewhere, almost without me realizing.

A man stands slightly apart from the others. I estimate his age to be around forty, though with the stats we are gaining, he could easily be much older. He is tall, well-kept, his black hair marked with faintest gray at the temples, his jaw clean-shaven.

"Is this your brother, Miss Victoria? The resemblance is obvious," he says politely, his tone calm.

Victoria nods. "This is Nathaniel. Nathaniel, this is Christoph."

"Hello," I say, taking his offered hand and shaking it.

"Hello. Chris is fine, no need to be so formal," he replies with a faint, observant smile.

My eyes are active since the moment I arrived, and I pick up the faint movements of mana around him. Incredibly delicate, fragile even, yet woven into intricate patterns. He smiles, tilts his head slightly, and adjusts his posture just enough that my kinetic senses scream at me, picking up every shift and the gesture.

For a moment in my mind, his figure overlaps with someone else entirely.

He releases my hand and says, "It’s good to see more people from Earth made it to the fourth floor."

***

POV Rafael Vaughn, aka Channeler

Jessica finishes her examination of the old cat, who lets her hold him without complaint. Grumpy’s fur is disheveled, and he is partially blind, his eyes clouded with the white layers that come in such a state. Yet, unfitting to his name, Grumpy lets it all happen. Even as Jessica sets him down, he leans forward and licks her hand a few times in a gesture that looks almost thankful.

Grumpy then turns around, takes a few tired steps, and lies down on a very old, torn blanket before closing his eyes to rest.

"How does it look?" I ask.

"Do you even realize how difficult this is?" Jessica mutters, "He probably awakened, sure, because he’s in our presence. But he’s old, weak, and fragile. And in case you forgot, he’s a cat, not a human. I know human anatomy far better, and even then, there’s more room for error, especially with attendees and their superhuman bodies. But if I make a mistake here, he’ll die instantly, and it will be on me. Rafael, I don’t want it to be on me."

"I knew healing was difficult. I saw it marked as easy difficulty under capabilities, but I thought it would be simpler for someone from Normal. Especially since you already cleared your thirteenth floor."

"You, my dear, spend too much time around Grumpy. And by Grumpy, I mean Lily fucking Chen. Don’t give me that look. Her real name is an open secret."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. So, for your information, I will do my best. I won’t sleep, I won’t eat, I’ll spend every hour of the day digging through every cat anatomy book I can find. I’ll pay tens of thousands to contact the best feline vets alive, if I can find any who will talk to me. I’ll even call in favors from healers I know and force them to work on it with me."

"That sounds like a lot of effort, Jessica."

"Please, don’t act like you didn’t expect that from me when you called me."

"I’m sorry. And I hope you won’t be angry if I ask, but what do you expect from it? I have an idea, but you were already hard for me to read."

"Are you trying to pick me up? If yes, I won’t say no. After I’m done here, you can invite me to a date. But no pressure. As for expectations…"

Her eyes cloud over a little, and a smile spreads across her face. "I’ve spent some time with Lily. I heard her talk about her cat more than some of my group members ever talked about their children left on Earth. If I do this, and she gets out… I have no illusions about my potential of becoming a Champion, or even hitting very high levels. But if it’s her, she can prolong my life quite nicely, I believe."

"I agree with you there."

Jessica smiles again. "Just how insane is it? The only thing that made us on Earth all equal, no matter if we were rich, pretty, ugly, talented, or useless. At most, you could squeeze out two or three extra decades if you had a team of doctors around you. And now, even this—life itself—is about to turn into currency."

***

POV Earth

"Colonel Jonathan Kane, we’ve received information from one of our Returnee contacts."

"Is it from Codename Channeler?"

"No, this came from a Normal difficulty Returnee assigned as the president’s bodyguard. The notification appeared to him just thirty minutes ago, and I rushed here to deliver it."

The man in the suit clears his throat and pulls out a tablet, reading from the glowing screen.

Congratulations. Enough attendees have completed their tutorial to move into the next step.

Dungeons will start gradually opening across Earth, trapping a certain percentage of dangerous awakened animals inside and allowing leveling up for those who enter.

Each dungeon can only be cleared once, and their number will continue to grow over time.

No information about dungeon tiers will be provided. Extreme caution is recommended.

***

POV Nathaniel

I appear inside my mind space, this time manifesting in there myself. The place looks like that endless white expanse again, no walls, no floor, no ceiling. The only thing in it is a small bed with unmade sheets and a few pillows piled on top.

I walk closer and stop at its side, giving one of the legs a light kick.

A grunting noise sounds from underneath.

"Come out," I call.

"No! I’m hiding!" The voice is young, muffled from under the bed.

"I know what you’re doing. I came because I need you to hide something."

The noises shift into an annoyed groan. A figure crawls out from beneath, shuffling forward on all fours. It’s a young boy wearing worn-out clothes and a single sock. Around his shoulders, tied loosely at his neck, is a red, bleached-out blanket pretending to be a superhero cape. He stands up and meets my eyes. One is gray, the other light brown.

Sneakythaniel tilts his head, looking at me. He doesn’t say anything, just smiles faintly. His eyes are lively, and there’s that strange, gentle warmth radiating from him, like he’s happy just to exist.

"Where’s your other sock?" I ask.

"It’s hidden somewhere," he says.

"Aren’t you supposed to be very sneaky yourself? How could you lose your sock?"

"How many times did you lose your favorite left sock? No matter how sure you were that you put it into the washing machine, and that it had nowhere else to go. It just disappeared, as if thrown into a black hole. Aren’t the left socks the sneakiest, most phantom things to ever exist if you think of it?"

"I can’t fight with that logic," I sigh and kneel in front of him.

It feels strange to look at him like this, knowing this is how I looked when I was younger. The same bed, the same worn clothes, the same cape tied around my neck.

"You can’t have it," he says, watching me glance at the cape. "It’s for heroes only."

"As if I even wanted it."

"You are me, of course, you wanted it, no matter how much you try to hide it." He smiles brightly and pats the top of my head. "We always wanted someone to save our sister and mom, a hero just like in the stories."

"It’s silly."

"It is. But wasn’t it a beautiful dream?" His smile softens, and then he hugs me. "This hug isn’t from me, but from you, you know? Because I don’t exist, and it’s only you. I am you. So I’m hugging you, us, for being crazy enough to create me, who is you, even though others would just call it giving yourself a mental illness."

"Yes, yes."

He laughs harder. "Now, what do you want to hide from yourself?"

"I want you to hide this information about Christoph until the third tournament, possibly longer. Don’t let me connect the dots or come to that conclusion again."

Sneakythaniel touches my forehead, eyes serious for a moment as he observes the information and my intention, then he nods once. "Got it!"

I look at him, confused. "You got what?"

"Not telling!"

"Ahhh," I groan, realizing what must have happened. I must have given him the knowledge of what I just gave him to hide. I want to ask, curiosity starting to torture me, but I know I wouldn’t have made myself do this without a damn good reason.

Sneakythaniel seems amused. With a giggle, he spins around, the red blanket twirling, then drops down on all fours and crawls clumsily back under the bed, movements childlike and careless.

Shaking my head, I stand up and turn to leave. After a few steps, he calls out from behind me. "Hey!"

"What?" I ask, glancing back.

From under the bed, in a space that somehow looks a lot darker than it should, only his head peeks out. Sneakythaniel smiles widely, his eyes shining. "I know it’ll annoy you, so I want to tell you. You’ve already been here before today, and you already had me hide something else from yourself."

I just wave him off and keep walking, but he keeps laughing. "After you leave, the memory of me existing will get hazy and hard to remember. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure we remember it all and tell you when it’s time. So get stronger!"

As if I needed the reminder. Getting stronger is the only plan I’ve ever had.

***

Next Chapter

***
Author Note: With this chapter, Book 8 should be now complete. At nearly 4,400 words, it is one of the longest chapters yet, about twice the usual length.

Normally, I take a week-long break after finishing each book, but I did not give you a proper heads-up this time. I do still need a little rest (and I need to do some cooking for Book 9), but instead of a full week off, I will adjust the schedule.

For the next five weeks, chapters will be reduced from 5 per week to 4 per week. This will give me some breathing room, and for you, it means no week long break. I think 4 chapters a week is still solid.

Because of this, Chapter 696 will not be posted on Sunday as usual. Sundays will be my break days, so Chapter 696 will go up on the same day Chapter 697 would have. After these five weeks, the schedule will return to 5 chapters per week.

If you have any questions or would like a refund (I'm very open here), please leave a comment or send me a message.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed Book 8, and I really appreciate your support!