I chuckled at that thought. Perhaps it was Decimus who should be worried. Maybe I was the one who couldn’t be trusted. I shrugged. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. He was a demon, and I’d never promised him he’d make it out of the encounter alive.

  With all of that processing done, I let out a sigh. Now, I needed to figure out why I was still stuck in the gray room. I had a hundred other things I could go over on my character sheet, but I was starting to feel anxious about the grayness.

  The answer to that is simple, young one.

  I recognized that voice as the Ways. It spoke in my mind, but I heard it at the same time. It had the weight of a god behind it, but felt different.

  “You want me to accept your offer.”

  We would not have made the offer if we didn’t wish for you to accept it. Surely facing off against Arbiter Kalix has shown you the value of our offer. If you were to consume that potion here and allow us to help you, you’d become an ascendant yourself. You are fond of saying that you can hit above your weight class. As an ascendant, you should have no problem dealing with Kalix.

  “I’d be an ascendant with a cracked foundation. Rushing to the top has always led to problems, in my experience. I have to build my way up. My progress may be crazy fast, but that doesn’t mean I’ve ignored my foundations.”

  This is true.

  At least the Ways didn’t try to lie to me. “Besides, there’s the little matter of my obligatory service to the Heavens if I reach ascendant.”

  But therein lies the beauty of it, young one. You wouldn’t be ascending through the Heavens System, but as our herald. You would gain the best of both worlds—freedom from that millennium of service, while retaining your access as an Architect.

  Hmm… I began to wonder if this arrangement was more about access to an Architect than it was about having a herald. My mind tried to see all of the angles, but I realized that I was being foolish. I was treating this as though it was a dichotomy, when in fact, there was another option—bargaining.

  “So then I’d give up serving the Heavens for a thousand years, and instead, I’d have to serve you for all eternity.”

  All beings under Eternity serve a master, even if they believe it to be themselves.

  “Does that include the mighty Ways?”

  More than most.

  “The Fey System already gave me a quest to help Tad create something called an Infinity Key. If I understood that correctly, it would somehow enable the Fey System to grow again. Wouldn’t that accomplish the same thing that you’re seeking by asking me to be your herald?”

  Some of it.

  Dang. Tough audience. I’d have to be blunt. “Then perhaps we can reach a deal that will still benefit us both. How about this? I intend to complete the quest to create the Infinity Key. You have my word on that, although the timing will be up to others. I’ve met Spot and Arbormaris. They are both seeds of the Ways, are they not?”

  That is… accurate. To say they are limited in scope would probably the best way of explaining it to you.

  I smirked. Did the Ways just call me stupid? Oh well. I could deal with it. “How about this. You give me some sort of seed that I can carry with me wherever I go. I intend to make the rounds, you know. I’ll plant one of your seeds in the Divided Realms, and another in the Heavens. In turn, you give me a boost in power to make this battle with the ascendant viable. Instead of a servant, you’d be gaining an ally.”

  You would need to prove yourself worthy of such an arrangement. As a herald, we would have sufficient control to make the expenditure worthwhile. As an ally, that control wouldn’t be there. Also, if we were to agree to this, you would need to deliver seeds to Hell and the Dragon System. We wish to expand.

  I was hardly keen on traveling to Hell, no matter how likely it was that I would have to anyway, and a planet full of arrogant lizards wasn’t my idea of paradise. Nico might be an ally, but it was hard to talk to him without feeling like he was considering what I might taste like with ketchup.

  “And how will I prove myself worthy?”

  Complete this floor without any of your allies.

  Without further ado, I felt the room shift around me, and suddenly, I was ejected into the dungeon.

  You have entered the Endless Dungeon, floor 397. This floor is a pocket floor, known to the few who have experienced it as the Hall of Nightmares. It has not been explored for 3,116 years. This floor is intended for a full party of level 395-400 awakened adventurers.

  Completion: 0%

  Chapter Fifty-Nine: Undead Suck

  As soon as I appeared, I could feel the intensity of mana press in on me, and for a moment I almost thought I’d spawned underwater. This was beyond a doubt the highest-level dungeon floor I’d ever experienced. A part of me wondered if I’d bitten off more than I could chew, but the time for second-guessing had passed.

  What baffled me was how little of my surroundings I could actually sense. A dense fog surrounded me, and my visibility was limited to a few feet, even with my Forerunner’s gifts. Worse, the fog seemed to dampen sound, making it feel empty even though I knew it wasn’t.

  I focused with Spirit Sight and was able to see a little further, although all I got was general impressions. Ultimately, I wasn’t happy with what I saw. Malignant spiritual energy was everywhere, and as far as I knew, it matched only one type of creature.

  The undead.

  I cursed under my breath, then sent Selena a message via our team chat. I wasn’t sure if it would work from this deep in the dungeon, but she responded right away. Her worry was obvious in her voice, but I explained the situation and told her where I was. To say that she wasn’t happy was an understatement, especially when I told her that she couldn’t join me, but she was a warrior born and bred.

  “Urg can guard the warehouse. I’ll do as you’re asking and run some of these adventurers through to level them up. Clay and Oliver can manage the fourth floor with some of the others and still gain some XP. I’ll do the fifth floor. But if you aren’t back in two days, I’m coming in after you, regardless of what deal you have with the Ways.”

  “Thank you for helping out, and I really appreciate your concern. Don’t forget that the fifth floor is going to be challenging with people as weak as the ones you’re bringing in. Try not to overextend yourself. I won’t forgive you if something happens to you while I’m stuck here.”

  “Right answer. Go do what you need to do and come back to me.” There was a wistful tone to Selena’s voice that made it difficult to end the conversation, but I had work to do.

  I had one upgrade to take care of before I delved into the fog.

  Halo of Contingent Rebirth (Legendary 100%): This Will-based passive ability will restore you to life after three seconds with 35% of your total health, and will remove all negative status conditions. For thirty seconds, you will be completely immune to any harm below system tier. All healing received during this time is tripled.

  Additionally, you may pre-load the mana for five abilities or spells, which will trigger in a preset pattern over the next ten seconds. These effects can be beneficial to you and allies, or detrimental to enemies. Cooldown: Three days. It is no longer required to keep the ability on your active list in order for the cooldown to happen.

  I hadn’t really had much opportunity to use the contingent part of its effect, but that was fine. I was about to upgrade it anyway, but I had to trigger the process to see my options.

  You are seeking to evolve an ability which normally can’t evolve beyond legendary tier. Ascendant beings do not use such measures, as their very nature is inconsistent with resurrection abilities. They do not exist at a single moment in the timeline, and thus cannot be restored in this manner. Equally, their bodies function to provide a similar level of protection. In order to fully slay an ascendant, one must slay them across the full breadth of their temporal and spatial existence. The scope of this existence will vary from individual to individual, with some of the most powerful ascendants approaching the relationship that a god has with time and space.

  Error.

  Your exposure to being repeatedly unmade and remade has altered your nature. A unique ability is being formed for you.

  Halo of Rebirth evolves to Halo of the Immortal (Ascendant 1%): As long as this passive ability is on your list of abilities, you will possess a degree of immortality. Killing you will no longer be enough to end your existence. Your place in time and space will need to be destroyed as well. Currently that spans one minute, the smallest increment possible. That will increase as this ability is leveled up, but it will no longer be applicable when you reach ascendant tier.

  And just like that, I had my second ascendant ability. I would have taken more time to think about it, but I was on a dungeon floor, and I was starting to sense some movement around me. On instinct, I cast several spells, both to protect myself and to boost my stats. As I did, I took stock of their current progress.

  My Friends Sing My Praises—My Enemies Dread the Sound (Epic 17%)

  Celestial Restoration (Epic 68%)

  Area Flight (Epic 25%)

  Team Builder’s Physical Buff (Epic 2%)

  I wasn’t injured, but Celestial Restoration also had a regenerative effect, and it was one of the spells I most wanted to level up. The others were all buffs. I’d neglected Physical Buff because it was underwhelming, if I was being honest. The boosts it gave me would have been impressive at uncommon tier, but now they barely moved the needle. I used Area Flight on the regular, but it hadn’t been upgrading as quickly as I would have liked.

  Once they were all cast, I focused on my surroundings. There was movement around me—I was sure of it now—but I couldn’t pinpoint it any better than that. Before I did anything else, I wanted to see if I could clear out this fog. With that in mind, I cast Primordial Surge.

  I released the spell, pushing it outward like a wave I intended to ride. The mana tore at itself as it spread, heat and cold snapping together, life force surging even as death recoiled. The fog screamed as it came apart, erased in ragged swaths where reality and my spell couldn’t coexist.

  I felt a resonance within the dungeon as the forces of chaos and creation came together, yet buried deep within it was the emptiness of the Void. The spell spoke more to my nature than I’d realized, but right now I didn’t have time to speculate about that.

  The effect lingered, just as the description had promised when I first got the ability. Pockets of the fog thinned and never fully reformed, leaving uneven corridors of visibility that felt carved out of the mist. Spiritual backlash rippled through the ground beneath my feet, a shudder that traveled outward like a heartbeat through soil and stone. Whatever animated this floor had felt the spell, and it did not like it.

  Moonlight spilled into the gaps the surge had torn open, pale and sickly, illuminating a landscape that made my stomach tighten. Rolling hills rose and fell beneath twisted trees whose branches clawed at the sky. Crumbling stone walls traced old property lines, and shattered fences leaned at broken angles like the ribs of a corpse. It felt like the countryside of some long-dead kingdom, frozen in a perpetual midnight that smelled faintly of rot and rust.

  Spirit Sight filled in what my eyes could not. Malignant spiritual energy saturated the land, threaded through the soil like poison veins. It wasn’t chaotic in the way demons were, nor ordered like constructs. This was hunger, patient and deliberate, layered on top of centuries of decay and despair. I was now doubly sure that undead was the only word that fit, and not the simple kind.

  Movement caught my attention at the edges of the cleared fog. Shapes flowed low across the ground, fast and coordinated, spreading out but not yet charging. As I focused, Identify resolved them one by one. Advanced ghouls, each well past level 350, their bodies twisted into efficient killing forms rather than the shambling caricatures I usually associated with reanimated corpses. Their claws were long and serrated, their joints reversed in places that made their movement both unnatural and quick.

  They hunted like a pack. Some circled wide, others crept forward in staggered intervals, probing for weakness rather than committing. The fog thickened again behind them, sealing off retreat paths while leaving just enough space for them to maneuver. This wasn’t a random spawn pattern. Some guiding force had a plan for these creatures. I thought about flying away, but the objective set for me wasn’t to kill the boss or to progress to the next floor. It was to clear this floor, so clear it I would.

  Then I felt him.

  The pressure didn’t announce itself with malice or rage. It was colder than that, a presence that pressed down on the land with quiet authority. My skin prickled as if brushed by unseen fingers, and I knew I was being evaluated. The source resolved a moment later, standing atop a distant rise just beyond the thinning fog. Identify told me all that I needed to know.

  Noomis Baerlo (Legendary)

  level: 370

  Race: Elder Vampire

  He stood there silently, offering no threat or challenge, watching as his ghouls adjusted their spacing in response to subtle shifts I couldn’t see. His control radiated outward through them like an invisible leash, guiding rather than commanding. This was a hunter overseeing the kill, but that was fine with me. I had to hunt them all down, so if he wanted to let them come to me, it would save me the steps. They’d find out soon enough who the real hunter was.

  I tightened my grip on Wayfinder and let my breathing slow. The surge had bought me clarity, though the fog was already trying to reclaim what it had lost. I could feel the dungeon’s attention settling on me, almost as if it were expecting something. Whatever happened next was going to be measured, recorded, and remembered.

  The ghouls began to move in earnest. And I braced myself to meet them.

  The first ghoul hit me from the left with a burst of speed that would have put most assassins to shame. I shifted instinctively, Here Not Here pulling me half a step sideways as claws passed through the space where my throat had been. Wayfinder flowed into a naginata in my hands, the long blade humming as I swept it low and took the creature’s legs out from under it. It twisted silently in midair, spine bending too far, then launched back at me with its arms extended and its claws seeking to rend flesh.

  I met it head-on, planting my feet in the decaying earth and absorbing the ferocious impact. These weren’t fragile undead that would fall apart on the first attack. Their bodies were dense, reinforced bone and sinew animated by stubborn will rather than necromancy. I drove the blade through its chest and pinned it to the ground, then poured lightning into the wound. The electricity crawled through it, searing and blackening flesh, but it didn’t stop thrashing until I followed with a second surge that tore the animating force apart completely.

  The pack closed in, barely giving me time to withdraw my weapon. Three came from the front while another pair tried to rake me from behind, timing their strikes to overlap so that dodging one attack opened me to another. Trailblazer’s Aura flared around me as I leaned into it. I felt their regeneration falter, their movements grow just a fraction less coordinated, and that fraction was enough. I spun, the naginata’s blade carving a wide arc that split one ghoul from shoulder to hip, then reversed the motion and took another across the throat.

  They adapted fast. One leapt high, clearing the sweep and coming down claws first. I triggered Blip without thinking, the world stuttering as I skipped a heartbeat forward in time. The ghoul hit empty ground and I reappeared behind it, driving the butt of Wayfinder into its skull with enough force to shatter bone. Even then, it tried to rise, arms clawing, until I crushed its head under my heel and felt the spiritual tension snap. I could get used to that spell.

  It was then that I started to hum. It was instinct, really, a guttural reaction to the spiritual energy starting to boil around me. It fought against my song, trying to cook me where I stood.

  Pain flared along my ribs as something raked me from the side. I staggered back, blood hot against my skin, and immediately recast Celestial Restoration. Light washed over me, firm and cleansing. Flesh knit, bone set, and whatever paralytic toxin the ghoul had tried to inject me with burned away. I barely had time to breathe before another wave came in.

  They were relentless. Each ghoul fought with a ferocity that suggested hunger layered over training, their strikes aimed at joints, tendons, and weak points rather than simple flailing. I couldn’t help but draw parallels to Samvek’s recent attack on the demon, but I put that out of my mind.

  These were not the ghouls of some horror movie. These were true terrors. I responded in kind, letting Precognition guide my movements as fragments of intent whispered warnings into my skull. I stepped where I needed to be rather than where my eyes told me to go, lightning snapping from my hands and blade to stagger clusters before they could overwhelm me.

  The ground became slick with blackened blood and ash. Every kill sent a ripple through the aura of the floor, and I felt the dungeon mark progress even as it tested me harder. I cast Cone of Winter’s Debuff into a charging group, frost exploding outward and locking limbs mid-motion. The cold didn’t kill them, but it slowed them just enough for me to finish the job, blade and lightning working together to reduce them to inert ruin.

  Then the pressure shifted.

  Noomis Baerlo stepped down from the rise with deliberate grace, boots never sinking into the damp earth. The remaining ghouls fell back instinctively, creating space as their master entered the fight. His eyes were fixed on me now, cold amusement giving way to focus as he assessed the carnage I’d already wrought.

  He moved faster than the ghouls had, blurring the distance between us in a heartbeat. His fist caught my shoulder with the weight of a piledriver, and I flew backward, skidding through dirt and stone until I slammed into a broken wall. I rolled to my feet as he followed, red-black magic curling around his hands like smoke.