Ziggurd had come to fully respect Smit and admired him more than he had truly admired anyone before. More than that, in the short time that he had known Smit, he had acted more like a father to him than his own had. His father had been common alchemist that had some minor ability with magic and had had a habit of immersing himself in his work so deeply that he often neglected his family. A man of few words and not very expressive of his emotions, Ziggurd could not call him a bad man, but he could not claim to have many memorable or joyful moments with him either. Perhaps the title of ‘mentor’ suited his biological father better than that of ‘parent’ considering the situation. The best thing that his father had done was instill a sense of wonder about magic within him, which led Ziggurd to be coming a proper sorcerer once it was discovered that he possessed the talent for it.

In contrast, while Smit was also passionate about his craft like Ziggurd’s original father, the level of consideration he had for Ziggurd was in a completely different level. Or perhaps Smit was simply more capable of expressing himself better. In the past few months, Smit had been more of a father to him than his own biological father had in years. He checked on Ziggurd regularly without being intrusive, he held deep conversations with him, he provided advice, he gave Ziggurd siblings that supported him, he even provided Ziggurd with a home despite not having any need to do so… And in a more literal sense, given that Smit had given him created him again, Smit was his father now.

When he thought about it, despite the fact that Smit had clearly not made any particular effort to indoctrinate him into subservience or even bring him into his fold, Ziggurd could not help but to view him as a paternal figure. Maybe it was because Smit simply treated him like the Pala and the rest, maybe it was because his new siblings never doubted him or treated him like he was any different from any of them, or maybe it was simply because Ziggurd had always desired to have someone like Smit in his life. Ziggurd suspected it was all of the above and then some, but that did not matter. There was a certain comfort in knowing that you had a family that supported you and looked after you, and Ziggurd had no doubt in his heart that both, Smit and his new siblings saw him as a member of their family.

Putting his new found feelings aside however, Ziggurd could not help but to admire the abilities of Smit. As he looked around the new levels he had created, he was still baffled by the ability that Smit possessed to be able to make something of this magnitude. He had taken to exploring the new level bit by bit when he was bored, roaming each level as to familiarize himself with the new terrain.

During his wandering in the new levels of the hanging gardens, however, he started to think a bit more critically of the layout. While his mind was frequently impressed with the layout and organization of the islands and the structure as a whole, he couldn’t help but to feel something was slightly… off. For while he could not quite put his finger on what exactly was bothering him, and the feeling persisted despite his attempts to ignore it.

He looked about carefully. The choke points were clever. The ground did not make it easy to find your footing. The available space changed from island to island. The creatures had the ability to cooperate to an extent. Overall the set up was…. Quite formidable in his eyes. Even if Azure Arrow had been fully rested and he still was partnered with them, they would have a tough time moving through the levels of this area.

He frowned as he revised the situation and switched his mentality from one of the dungeon’s creations to an adventurer. What would he do if he had been faced with a level like this back when he had been an adventurer? Piece by piece he revised the information as he paced through the levels of the Hanging Gardens, and it was not until he had reached the last floor and looked up that it clicked. It was the drop between the levels.

The gap between the levels was substantial for sure, but it was hardly impossible to bypass with the right preparation. It might have been possible to leap from level to level with a rope, even though that method was clearly dangerous, considering the aggressive birds and the other creatures that would try to take them down while they climbed down the rope. In that sense, a rope was a risky option. However, if there was a mage that had knowledge of certain spells, such as [feather fall] … Then that was a different matter.

In all fairness, it wasn’t like there was an excess of spells that one could use to get safely down from a high place, and even less so when one considered it had to be done repeatedly or for a long distance with multiple people… but they did exist. [Feather fall] just happened to be amongst the most the most suitable for the task. As the name suggested, it caused the target of the spell to descend at a reduced speed. While not ideal for long distances, it would work just fine for the space between the levels of the hanging gardens. While it only targeted one person at the time, it was not extremely mana intensive, and a competent mage could probably cast it several times on the entire party.

In all fairness, a good number of adventuring teams did not have a magic user, and less had a competent magic user with a significant amount of mana, but generally speaking, most parties of C rank and above had someone capable of magic, and from B rank onwards, it was very rare to find a party without a competent magic user. Considering this, it was fair to assume that if, no, when the dungeon started to see a regular influx of B-rank adventurers, this area would be much easier for them it should be, allowing them to skip a few levels at a time.

Frowning, at this, Ziggurd considered the situation with apprehension. He was not sure if this was done by design or by accident. Knowing Smit, the Dwarf had generally a reason for everything, but Ziggurd could not help but to feel that perhaps the dwarf had missed something this time. Or rather, Ziggurd suspected that perhaps Smit had not considered this possibility. It was clear that he had at least given some thought to the possibility of someone using a rope, as the set up made safely using said rope a challenge. But magic? Ziggurd dared say that magic spells and incantations were not Smit’s area of expertise.

Lost in such thoughts, Ziggurd felt a swell of power that snapped him out of his musings. Naturally, the source of such power could only be from one source: Smit. No one but him could create such a strong beacon of mana. Curious, Ziggurd wandered his way down to the lowest level of the Hanging Gardens, where Smit was busily creating the final level. Apparently, the Smit had finally come up with a design that suited his taste.

By the time Ziggurd found his way to what should have been the bottom of the of the Hanging Gardens. To his surprise however, walking down the spiraling staircase took longer than he expected. When he finally reached the bottom floor he saw why. The bottom floor had been pushed down perhaps twenty meters more than it had been previously. The rocky, uneven ground now had large stalagmites peppered around the area, and the water that covered the ground was high enough that it could cover the ankles of a person. Already this was looking to be a rather nasty place to fight, in Ziggurd’s opinion, and he could only imagine how difficult it would be to fight a boss level monster once Smit was finished.

Smit for his part, was working steadily on remodelling what would be the twentieth level of his dungeon with outmost care. Ziggurd could not be sure if words could do justice to the process he was observing. Merely calling it mana manipulation seemed to be a disservice to the complex and precise process he was observing. Furthermore, it wasn’t just the act of manipulating mana, it was how Smit was capable of utilizing it in tandem with his other abilities, causing a synergistic effect that boggled the mind.

As a former mage and adventurer, Ziggurd could have stood and watched in fascination for hours on end the sublime process occurring before him. He refrained from doing so exclusively because he thought that the current situation required him to provide some input. If Smit decided his worries were unnecessary, well, that would be the end of it and Ziggurd could be at peace knowing he had done his part. On the other hand, if his worries proved to be helpful then all the better, and he would be happier knowing that he had helped protect his new home.

Unsure about how to breach the subject, Ziggurd cautiously approached Smit as to not surprise him. “Ah… Boss?” He asked with a hint of caution, only to receive a grunt of acknowledgement.

“Can we talk for a moment?” Ziggurd said, almost sheepishly. This was a tone that Smit had not heard Ziggurd talk to him like this since… well, since before he had become a true creation of his. It was so out of place that he paused his work and turned to face the tall elemental spirit with a curious glare. Then again, Smit’s face seemed stern most of the time, so perhaps he wasn’t glaring intentionally.

Coughing to both disguise his thoughts and organize his words, Smit crossed his arms and looked at him firmly. “Out with it boy, what is it?”

Boy? He thought to himself. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he heard Smit use it but it suddenly seemed to strike a chord in him. While normally he wouldn’t have mined, or perhaps taken slight offence to it considering he was (or rather, used to be) a fully grown adult man, now he did not mind it all. Instead, he found it oddly… Appropriate. Not just because Smit’s appearance was older, nor because Smit was clearly wiser. No, this ran much deeper than that. Perhaps this was what it was like to have a true father.

“I-uh- yeah. Sorry.” Ziggurd said, mentally kicking himself for the statement as soon as he said it. He was an educated man with arcane knowledge, and that was how he started a conversation? He was almost disgusted with himself. “I couldn’t help but to notice the new floors you built. They are quite grand.”

“The Hanging Gardens?” Smit asked as he raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips. “Glad you like it boy. It turned out quite well, didn’t it?”

“Yes, absolutely. It’s fantastic!” Ziggurd said with a nod of enthusiasm. “But…”

As soon as the word ‘but’ left his lips, he sensed a hint of steel in the eyes of Smit. It was a very subtle change in his appearance, one that he was not sure he could pinpoint even if he was given an hour to try to pin it down. But something about the stony features of the dwarf’s face seemed… Stern. More than usual.

…Do all fathers look so intimidating? Ziggurd’s mind asked itself as he started to waver in his conviction. He’d rather be fighting bears than to linger under that gaze for long, so he gathered his resolution and blurted it out before he lost his nerve.

“But I think there mightbeaproblem.” Ziggurd said speeding up at the end. Had he been human, he surely would have bitten his tongue.

“A… problem you say?” Smit said carefully, as if savouring the words. This, for some reason, was both reassuring and worrying to Ziggurd in equal measures. “How so?”

“It’s the drops between the levels of the hanging gardens.” Ziggurd said almost with a gasp. Why was talking to Smit all the sudden so difficult? It felt like he was being scrutinized and assessed. Even though there was not source of bloodlust or magical pressure radiating from Smit that he could detect, he felt a very real pressure weighing on him. “People could jump down.”

“A ten-meter drop onto uneven, often wet rock?” Smit asked with a raised eyebrow. “I doubt many would try it and survive. Most of those capable of simply jumping and moving on like nothing won’t find the Hanging Gardens very challenging anyways.”

“They could use ropes.” Ziggurd added.

“A dangerous gamble, between aggressive birds, the kobolds learning the crossbow, and creatures charging after them on land? They are more likely to get their rope cut, or hands pecked, or shot by an arrow.” Smit countered, his eyes still firmly on Ziggurd.

“They could use magic!” Ziggurd finally added, wincing for some unknown reason to even himself. Perhaps he was expecting to get scolded, or called a fool, or slapped on the back of his head. Irrational fears really, but nonetheless present, even if only for a fraction of a second.

“Hmm… magic?” Smit said as he stroked his beard carefully now. His eyes shifting from Ziggurd at last, looking up at the rest of the hanging gardens. A second passed and Ziggurd’s apprehension started to melt away as Smit observed his creation from below. “…How so? I thought [flight] was a rather difficult spell that few could use. I doubt that there will be much issue there.”

Blinking in surprise, Ziggurd opened his mouth and then closed it again without making a sound. It took him a second try to finally reply as he intended. “[Flight]? That is a difficult spell yes… quite advanced. You’d have to be an exceptional magician not just to cast it, but to manipulate it properly. I don’t think there are many people that can use it… but there are other options such as [feather fall] and [float] which could be an issue.”

“Hmm… Never heard of them.” Smit said with a grunt, shrugging his shoulders briefly. “Names seem pretty self explanatory though. Let me guess, [feather fall] makes someone fall as light as a feather, and the other one lets you levitate?”

“Ah… something like that.” Ziggurd said, now feeling more at ease that the subject was one he was familiar with. “[Feather fall] doesn’t mage you fall as if you were a feather, but it reduces the speed of your fall significantly for a short amount of time. You need to cast the spell for each target, but it would work just fine as long as the caster has made preparations or has time to cast it on each party member. [Float] is kind of… the easy version of [flight]. You can’t move quickly, and its fairly costly in terms of mana, but it does have a small area of effect so it would be possible to move a small group down to the next level.”

“Hm… interesting. I never knew that.” Smit said with an interested tone. His eyes seemed to gaze over the structures above him critically, before looking down at Ziggurd. “So you are saying that this would allow some of them to skip through the Hanging Garden’s much faster than expected?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Ziggurd nodded. “While it depends on the caster’s affinity for the element, their mana pool, and competency, a competent mage should be able to carry his party at least through two or maybe three leaps.”

“Two to three huh…” Smit muttered as he looked at the situation. That was a lot. That meant that they could skip up to three levels of the Hanging Gardens. That didn’t quite sit well with him. Obviously it would be a lot harder to do with the lower levels, as there was simply less steady ground to aim for, but even if they skipped only the first three levels, that would mean they avoided a fair number of additional conflicts. Three levels of worth of conflicts was by no means a small amount.

“I see.” Smit finally said as he fixed Ziggurd with his firm gaze. “Come. Tell me more about the uses of these spells. The more information you have about them the better.”

Ziggurd had not expected to be drafted in to walk with Smit, expecting Smit to take care of everything himself after being informed of Ziggurd’s suspicions. Nevertheless Ziggurd was rather pleased with the turn out. He walked with Smit up and down the levels of the Hanging Gardens, specially the top five floors, were Smit suspected the spells would be most likely to be used, as there was more land coverage to land upon. Ziggurd provided his thoughts on the spells and locations that he would prefer to use them as an adventurer, and Smit noted that and sometimes proposed alternative scenarios for Ziggurd to reply to.

It was an interesting situation, where for once Smit was learning something new from his creations. Nonetheless, the dwarf seemed to be a deft hand at listening and visualizing the information provided to him. He made note of the most obviously beneficial locations for utilizing the spells as pointed out by Ziggurd, and set up some sort of trap as a precaution. They were not the most deadly of traps by any means, but they were rather interesting none the less.

He set up three types of traps for the top five floors. The first was a the simplest, he called it the ‘spirit shine’ trap. It was only meant to disrupt and confuse the enemies, which ideally would cause the mage to either incorrectly cast the spell or drop it entirely. By creating a crystalline outcrop of rock near the area of interest, Smit simply summoned dozens upon dozens of minor light spirits, much like he did when he was creating the lighting for his dungeon levels. However, instead of spreading them and using them to create certain lighting effect, he heaped them up in the crystalline rock.

These little spirits only had one job. When they sensed a sharp rise in foreign mana close to them, they would emit light with all their might. The crystalline rock bellow them, was in essence a piece of cleaved granite, as if something had shattered part of the surface and then tried to polish it. Ziggurd had initially expressed confusion at why the large rock, which was nearly half the size of smit, was being so carefully designed. His unasked question was answered when smit ordered the spirits to shine all at once as a test.

The result was an explosion of light that lasted only a second at most, but it was enough for Ziggurd to understand all at once as light scattered everywhere as if a hundred miniature mirrors had been struck by the light of the sun. Thanks to the reflective surface of the stone, it seemed to magnify the effect of the light, increasing the perceived radiance provided by the spirits. Any poor soul looking directly at the stone, or even standing too close next to it was sure to be startled by the occurrence, if not blinded by the sudden brilliance.

This might have passed for a mere practical joke in a different situation, but Ziggurd shuddered to imagine the consequences it could have in a dungeon. Even setting aside the danger of momentary loss of vision, a failed spell could be very dangerous and cause unexpected results, or even backlash against the caster.

The second type of trap was more insidious than the first, though perhaps easier to avoid, once you saw through it. It was a very simple trap. It made a tempting ledge that could be used to leap down to the next level even more tempting by extending said ledge by a several feet, creating a sort of natural platform from which landing onto the island below would be far easier. The trap laid in the fact that that this new platform was hollow at the point where it met the original island. One person probably would not break it. But if more than two gathered, the weak connection would crumble under the weight, and whoever was on top would fall.

The third trap seemed almost playful in Ziggurd’s eyes, but it did not make it any less dangerous. Smit had created nests for snakes and aggressive ravens and magpies on the sides of the islands, their entrance exposed to the open air. It was designed such that if anyone was unfortunate enough to be dangling by a rope, or trying to gently go fall to the next level through magical means, they would get quite the surprise as snakes or angry birds with razor sharp talons leaped at them without warning. Smit almost added spiders too, but decided against it as he currently had no spiders that would offer a substantial benefit for this particular task.

Ziggurd was surprised at the creativity of the traps. These traps in particular were not meant to outright murder people, but to disrupt them, to confuse, injure, distract, and induce mental fatigue. How easy would it have been for Smit to install poison darts instead of birds, exploding rocks instead of light spirit shine traps, or create entire islands that could collapse and kill whomever was on them? Yet, this highlighted once again the nature of Smit to Ziggurd. He was not creating these for the thrill of the hunt, nor because he was a psychopath that enjoyed death or the struggle of people to live. Despite the danger, he left adventurers just enough wiggle room to retreat, as long as they recognized the danger of the situation.

Yet, there was no doubt in Ziggurd’s mind that, if he so chose to, these preparations were sufficient to turn the Hanging Gardens into a slaughter house unlike any seen by the kingdom in its history. These traps could be used in synergy with his creatures if needed be, and could be used to great effect instead of being used as a single trap that could take out a few people at a time but became useless once it was triggered. The use of spirits was particularly ingenious in Ziggurd’s mind, as they could replenish their mana independently, and be ready to fire again in a relatively short time span.

If a second army like the one Klax led trying to charge to through the hanging gardens. Blinded left and right by the shining spirit traps, oni defending the bridges while fair goblins using slings, shields, and knives to wound or hold back the horde, while a whole army of creatures created by Smit ran funneled and isolated pockets of the invading force, tricking them into traps and eliminating them. It was an ambitious plan, in his minds eye Ziggurd could vaguely imagine the chaos the Hanging Gardens could cause to the ranks of any intruder.

He shuddered at the thought of it, but he was glad that Smit was preparing for whatever may occur in the future. Not for the first time, he was glad to be on Smit’s side now, as Ziggurd truly believed that being against him would be suicide in most cases. Then again, his last opponent had been a demonically enhanced sorcerer with an army of abominations, so perhaps being his ally was also quite dangerous.

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While Smit and Ziggurd busied themselves with the renovation the Hanging Gardens, the inhabitants of the dungeon continued about their business, fighting, training, sleeping , or exploring, the dungeon was never a dull place for its inhabitants. It felt like every week someone would evolve, and every day they would all struggle to improve. Most evolutions were of the common variety among the creations. A kobold would become a kobold warrior. A common green snake would change to its slightly more poisonous step up. A wolf would evolve in an alpha wolf. So on and so forth.

Yet there were a select few that felt like they were at the cusp of attaining evolution, and yet it was denied to them again and again. Echo was among these few, and truth be told, it frustrated her to no end. Being one of the very first entities to roam the dungeon, she was starting to worry about her lack of evolution. The only one of her siblings to not have evolved was Ziggurd, and he hardly counted because he had been ‘alive’ far less than any of the others.

Initially, she had berated herself for being too greedy, for wanting more than she should. Afterall, it was already a great miracle that she existed, and a great gift that her father had given her a body. How could she be so selfish as to want more than that? Nonetheless, she would be lying to herself if she said she did not wish to evolve like the rest.

It wasn’t until she had talked to her father that her worries had been calmed, and she wondered why she didn’t speak to him sooner. It seemed like she had wasted a lot of time and effort worrying over something that could have been resolved far sooner. He had helped her understand the situation better, and now, instead of regretting her own inability, she endeavored to surpass herself.

She often meditated on the eight floor, cultivating as her father had taught her how. He attracted the energy, she moulded it, let it permeate her body, and tried to concentrate it within her heart again and again and yet again. Repeating this process every day on top of her normal training routine.

A skittering sound was heard, and Echo released her concentration as she turned her head to look at the creature that she had sensed. Before her, a rather large, but odd-looking arachnid appeared. With two heads and the size of a child’s head, the spider creature had an almost metallic look to it. It had no hairs on its limbs, nor were its eyes bulging and beady, but rather almond shaped and without pupil. It almost looked as if it was a toy made of copper.

“You are here again.” She said with a faint smile. The little critter had been visiting her since she started to train in the eight floor, almost as if to check on her. Echo found the little critter to be good company during her training, despite its inability to talk. She still could remember her surprise at seeing it appear the first time she saw it, as she had thought the little critter had died somewhere along the line. Clearly that was not the case though, as it had not only survived, but also evolved into a different species all together.

That was quite an achievement in a dungeon where even rodents had the upper hand on the little spider, but she was happy for it nonetheless. It served as inspiration, for if such a diminutive creature could evolve, why should she not be able to? The critter had pulled off a small miracle in surviving this long and evolving, and she was certain that she could do it too.

Petting its heads, Echo sighed and returned to her training as the little spider tucked in its legs and sat to watch her, much like she had seen wolves do. How odd. Did Spiders rest like that, or was this little one unique? She thought it was endearing at any rate. She smiled as she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind again.

She would do it. She was almost there. Her instincts told her so, but she couldn’t rush it. With this in mind, she resumed her training. And ever so faintly, the area in the centre of her chest palpitated ever so softly, like the first breaths of a newborn child.

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