N. Francis
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Chapter 126: The Furnace
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 14:43:19 +0000 UTCAs Rory and Zoey traversed the first ‘floor’ of the deep chambers, they found themselves facing off against packs of monsters more and more often, ranging from basic cherufe scouts to magma slugs, crag ants, and more. It had become increasingly clear that while the packs were more then manageable together, individually progressing past even the singular floor would have been a struggle, Rory would have been too pressed to focus on his offensive capabilities, and Zoey would have been too slow to kill the monsters as the tides gradually swelled, forcing her to rely on her inversion while slowly wearing her down.
But together? The power duo progressed through the landscape until at last, they found themselves staring at something they hadn’t expected.
“That’s a staircase.”
“Yes, I can see that much,” Rory answered, arms folded one over the other as he looked down. Tucked toward the far side of the chamber was what had looked like a miniature chamber, filled with a swarm of crag ant warriors, level seventy-one across the board. With nearly thirty of them, it had been quite the battle, or it would have been quite the battle had Rory not set up shop from far enough away, relying on Zoey to relay instructions as he conjured the equivalent of a magical airstrike down on the ant outpost.
Dropping a meteor on them, it hadn’t been difficult to waltz in afterward and clean shop, which left them staring at what they had been guarding, a naturally formed stone staircase that descended deeper into the earth.
“When you see stuff like this, it’s easy to forget we’re floating in the sky,” Zoey said after a moment.
“Yeah, well, it helps when you’re in a mountain that stretches several dozen miles in either direction.”
“Fair.”
The duo continued to stare at the staircase before Zoey sighed.
“I probably shouldn’t bother asking, but me first?”
In response, Rory shot her a level stare, that much obvious.
“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.” Zoey muttered as she began descending the stairs, Rory following her. Descending for what felt like an hour before the stone walls began to bleed away, as they found themselves entering the next zone.
“Very cliché.”
“No lie there,” Rory agreed as he took in the sight. The stairs eventually led to a much smaller cave, the ground beneath their feet composed of obsidian and lava rock that occasionally pulsed with a red hue, heat rising with each pulse before dissipating as the lighting waned. The cave they had entered was large enough to comfortably sprawl out, though not quite so large as to engage in full-fledged combat. The walls looked charred and twisting as if molten rock had cooled before being repeatedly marked by rising flames. Lastly, opposite of where they had entered from was a clear pathway or tunnel leading… somewhere.
“That looks fun.”
“It looks alarming,” Rory countered.
“But fun!”
“Whatever you say.”
Not taking his mild protest as an outright rejection of traversing forward, Zoey continued to lead the way as they entered the tunnel. It was approximately twice Rory’s height, and two point four times Zoey’s height, and wide enough that Rory could have lain out and still had a few inches to spare. The only lighting was from the gentle pulse of the lava stone, though even at its darkest, there was always a soft, glowing warmth.
The tunnel twisted and turned until, a few minutes later, Zoey held up her hand, signaling for them to stop. Given his height advantage over her, it wasn’t hard for Rory to see straight over her, taking in what had halted her steps.
A monster was blocking their path, resembling the magma slug from the floor above, except this one had a shell made of grey metal that gave off strong tetanus vibes. Pockets of built-up soot marked it, and its eye stalks had turned to face them.
Shell, so I guess it’s more of a snail than a slug.
“Iron Snail, level seventy-three,” Zoey said, confirming his thoughts.
If Rory had to guess, it was some form of evolved version of the magma slug, giving off a stronger aura than the earlier monsters they had seen. It still didn’t measure up to the Ape of a Hundred Throes, but it was the first real escalation they’d seen since entering the deep chambers.
As for what the snail had been up to, Rory noticed that all around it, where what appeared like iron-colored pineapples, except as he looked closer, the uneven grooves and bumps weren’t the natural curvature of a fruit.
They were eggs, lumped together.
Oh. Interesting!
“I want those eggs,” Rory said after a moment.
“Didn’t take you for the motherly type.”
“Not what I meant,” Rory rolled his eyes. “Who knows what I could do with those?”
“Like?”
“I literally just said who knows,” Rory answered.
“Oh, thought you were being facetious.”
“No, I was very much being serio- oh, incoming.”
The snail had evidently grown tired of their bantering, or was otherwise attempting to protect its egg stash, as it opened its mouth and began spewing what looked like fiery slime toward Zoey.
Catching the expulsion on her shield, Zoey frowned as she found herself suddenly tethered to the ground, the snail having spat out the remainder so that it globbed onto the stone underfoot.
“Gross.”
“Yeah,” Rory had exchanged his staff for his banner as launching large-scale magic in a small tunnel wasn’t exactly high on his list of things to do. Sweeping the flag through the air, the snail was momentarily distracted by an eruption of color and light that only it saw as Rory swept the blade of his spear through the goop, freeing Zoey’s shield from its bindings.
“Thanks. Didn’t expect webbing from a snail.”
“Uh huh.” Rory mumbled, more preoccupied with said ‘webbing’ as he had noticed it hardening, into what looked like iron.
A fast-acting binding agent that hardens into an organic metal agent. That’s indeed interesting.
Overcoming the illusion that distracted it, the snail looked at Zoey, and from its eyes, nearly imperceptible beams of condensed heat shot out. The overall energy yield wouldn’t have been that great, except concentrated as they were, Rory could have understood how such a hard-to-notice attack could still result in devastating injuries.
Except, clad in promethium armor, Zoey just blinked it off, the concentrated heat ray doing fuck all to her armor.
“Have I mentioned before how much I appreciate this armor?” Zoey said, giving Rory a wide smile.
“Yeah, yeah, just don’t get distracted,” Rory mumbled. While it was apparent that the snail was more dangerous individually than any of the monsters of the prior floor, there was still only one of it. Based on the two attacks they had seen, Rory had already begun to piece together a monster profile on it.
Catches prey with its iron ooze, then concentrates heat rays directed at vulnerable spots, wearing it down until it can probably do whatever else it does. Not exactly an innovative form of hunting. Still, if it works, it works.
The snail opened its mouth to spew another blast of its iron ooze, only for a shield to suddenly project in front of it, the ooze splattering against it and even back splashing onto the Iron Snail. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Rory stepped forward, past Zoey, as his spear snapped out to skewer the monster. Faster than he had expected from a snail monster, it suddenly spun to its side, catching the spear-tip against its shell. Ordinarily, such a tactic would have worked well for the snail.
This was not one of those times.
The spear-tip it had caught on its shell wasn’t any ordinary material, impossibly sharp for the tier it was at. Driving into the metal shell, spiderwebbing lines shot out from the impact point as Rory yanked the spear out, a dribble of rust-colored blood dripping from the stab location.
Moving in tandem with Rory, Zoey stepped forward as her shield slammed into the Iron Snail’s face, its eye stalks taking the blow shockingly well for how delicate they looked.
Still, taking a blow, shockingly well, when the expected result was agonizing pain, meant that the snail still flailed its eye stalks about in surprise at the strike.
“It ain’t a direct fighter, that’s for sure,” Zoey said, giving voice to Rory’s inner feelings on the monster.
“Pin it for me, please,” Rory said as he suddenly tossed her a chain. Grinning, the woman stalked after the snail, whipping the chain around like a lasso, only flinching back when the end of the chain scraped the nearby walls.
“Please don’t ruin my stuff,” Rory sighed.
“Sorry.”
Stalking forward more seriously this time, the snail attempted to retreat. Zoey, meanwhile, had other things in mind. Suddenly, she shot forward with a burst of speed, managing to maneuver around the snail as the chain looped around it.
While the single chain on its own may have only been partially effective, chains made of pneuma suddenly appeared, linking with the physical chain, locking the monster down better than if Rory attempted to ensnare it with just the projections.
Struggling, the monster was unable to escape; it wasn’t made for power or speed. If Rory had to make a guess, he would place it as a pneuma-based fighter, based on the ooze it had spewed and the magical properties that he doubted were purely the result of organic chemistry.
Not wanting to elongate its suffering, Rory was by no means a sadist; he took advantage of its inability to escape, standing before it with his spear brandished. Striking out, the spear severed its eyestalks before being lodged back into the earlier stab wound.
Even attempting to be quick about it, Rory felt bad as the monster thrashed for several minutes longer, not dying quickly due to an overflow of vital energy regenerating it around the spear. Still, unable to compensate for the inability to escape, those vital reserves waned without a shot at survival.
At last, nearly three minutes later, the monster died.
“I sort of feel bad,” Zoey said as she handed the chain back to Rory, who dropped it into his inventory.
“Yeah, well, I very much doubt it was going to let us scoot on by either.”
“If you say so,” Zoey said with a sigh. “So…. These eggs?”
Waving his hand, a simple metal chest appeared in front of Rory.
“Why do you just have a metal chest?” Zoey questioned.
“Call it safety precautions. I don’t always want to dump whatever into my inventory, so I made a simple chest to store potentially more volatile things.”
“If you say so,” Zoey said, repeating her earlier statement.
“Now, if you don’t want to spend extra time here, help me harvest these eggs.”
“Bleh.” Zoey stuck her nose up, but did as he requested. It took only a few minutes, but soon Rory had a metal chest overflowing with iron-colored egg sacks.
“Onwards?” Zoey asked once the deed was finally done.
“Almost,” Rory said as he laid a hand atop the shell of the snail, which vanished a moment later. “Before you ask, I figure bringing the corpse back will help with the study of this species, which may help avoid wasting those eggs on tests that I could have already figured the answer for by just looking over its adult form.”
“Uh huh, I was totally about to ask all that.”
“Whatever,” Rory sighed. “Onwards.”
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The journey through the second basement floor of the deep chambers continued as Zoey and Rory slowly butchered their way through the monsters that called it home. Whereas the prior floor had been one large, expansive badlands and craggy terrain, throughout the entirety of the second floor, the theming remained consistent: a network of caves with pulsating lava rocks.
They continued to encounter more monsters, ranging from more iron snails to deep rock salamanders, and even a few wyrm newtlings. While the level had risen on average to seventy-three, the monsters at no point became overwhelming between the two of them. Individually, the two of them were arguably far more accomplished than the ‘average’ person of their tier. However, that could be technically arguable, given that most of their tier was still predominantly made up of other founders. Still, the overall sentiment stood that while at-tier monsters were generally a hard-fought battle for most, for example, a tier-six human was often better off hunting high-tier-five monsters; that wasn’t so much the case for those such as the founders. At tier was more than doable so long as they weren’t variants like alpha monsters.
And with two founders? They could punch well above their weight; ordinary low-tier-seven monsters were fodder between the two of them.
Their journey was only occasionally punctuated by stops, as Rory noted an interesting resource, such as a pocket of fungi that glowed with a black-colored light or a vein of gemstones that appeared like crystallized amber, forcing Rory to take some time out to carve a few pieces free from the walls.
Even some of the monsters were harvested, typically only the rarer wyrm newtlings.
Eventually, their meandering tunnel at last opened up into a proper cave, a small hill adorned with a tree, its scraggly black branches made of glossy black and orange petrified bark. Behind the hill, there was what looked like a large archway that once more descended into a staircase deeper into the mountain.
But more important than either of those points was that curled around the tree was a monster that could have almost been mistaken for a snake or maybe even a dragon. Except unlike a snake, it had two stubby claws near the front of its body, and unlike a dragon, there was a distinct lack of wings.
Wyrm Newt
Level: 74
A Wyrm Newtling may only overcome the newtling stage after cannibalizing at least a hundred other newtlings, reinforcing their identity through continued overlaying of their conceptual energies. Unlike the smaller and weaker newtlings, the Wyrm Newt begins to show signs of greater promise, capable of withstanding the deeper heats of their molten homes.
It wasn’t a whole lot to work with. Still, at the very least, it gave Rory a clear heads up that the monster before them was of an entirely different league than the rest of the monsters on the floor they’d been exploring.
“It doesn’t look nearly as cuddly as the rest of them,” Zoey pointed out, ever the wise sage.
“What gave that away? The little arms that look like they are made for holding things down while it goes to town on them?”
“Thanks for the imagery,” Zoey muttered. “But no, I was thinking about the tail that looks like it’s from a horror movie.”
Having not paid much attention to its tail, Rory noticed what it was she had been referring to. Unlike a normal snake tail, the wyrm newt had what appeared to be a skeletal-looking hand at the end of the tail, six quadruple-jointed digits, unlike a human hand’s triple-jointed fingers, adorned with a needle point on each digit.
“Nasty,” Rory said in agreement.
As much as the easy answer to the monster before them was letting Rory drop a meteor on it and hoping for the best, the tree intrigued Rory enough that he wanted to hold back on causing potential environmental damage.
“We’re going to take a more methodical approach to this one,” Rory said, voicing his thoughts out loud.
“Dang, and here I was enjoying your impersonation of the U.S government toward young brown children.”
“Meaning?” Rory said, raising his eyebrows.
“Bombing them.”
“Dark.”
“You make those jokes when your mother was a senator and your father a businessman.”
“Huh?”
“Anyway,” Zoey waved at the monster once more. “You were saying?”
You know what? I’m going to ignore ALL of that.
“We take a methodical approach, as I don’t want to damage that tree.”
“It does look weird.”
“Weird… Sure, yeah, if that’s your takeaway, good enough,” Rory grumbled. “The easiest approach is probably how we handled that first Iron Snail: pin it in place and get to stabbing.”
“And when it inevitably goes to shit and we need to make stuff up on the fly?”
“You let it try to eat you while I figure things out from safely behind you.”
“At least you’re not pretending otherwise,” Zoey said. “Anything else I should know?”
“Not that I can think of,” Rory said honestly.
“Great, then let’s get to dragon slaying,” Zoey grinned as she cracked her knuckles.
“It’s a wyrm. So, wyrm slaying.” Rory corrected.
“Nerd.”
Comments
Nathaniel France
You'd be 100% correct, I accidentally skipped a chapter. I'll amend that right now
Ramanaa Ramalingam Makesh
Should there be a chapter before this?
