Chapter 263

Return of the Seven(?) Greedy Ones (II)

A tiny army appeared at the entrance of the ninth floor, staring at the white-winged citadel in front of them. Most had gaped lips and widened eyes, a sense of awe and even a trace of reverence flowing through them.

Cain let them experience it; it was pointless, pulling them out. One way or another, this place was much, much bigger than them, than him even. The mystique surrounding it gobsmacked millions of souls for years on end, but nobody ever died from admiring it safely from a distance, at least.

The only person besides Cain not to enter a temporary state of stupor was Ethan. He was yet to recover from discovering and meeting all the members of the group. Every last one of them was a legendary figure, quite a few mere myths people have long since forgotten. It was the original forward party, the one responsible for clearing the first two floors. Little to nothing was known about them at the time, besides the speculation that they had direct links to the now-trillionare Rick Garcia.

However, after the second floor fell, they went dark. Aside from the occasional movements from the individual members, which were rarer than the eclipses, the group was never seen again... and the chatter about them, slowly but surely, died out.

Yet, standing in line, right next to him, were all of them; even six years into their ghosting of the world, all of them were... unfathomable. Even with his unprecedented sensitivity to Mana, for the first time in his life, Ethan found himself blind. No matter how he looked at them, all he saw were swirling blurs of chaos.

There was something beneath, something stirring and burning and screaming, but he couldn’t peel back the layers to see it. Whatever lay beneath, however, was terrifying-- that much he knew. It was like there was a pressure valve holding back a volcanic eruption-- no, not just one... many.

And now, he knew, they were preparing to erupt once again into the world. He didn’t know-- nor did he ask-- why they went AWOL for so many years or even why they decided to return to the scene right now, but, in the end, it didn’t really matter that much. The reasons could be as pedantic as being tired or something far more insidious, but neither would change the end-outcome... that they were back.

They recovered relatively quickly, sucking in a collective, cold breath as they began to swiftly discuss the sight in front of them. Cain stepped forward and led the charge as they made their way over onto the bridge, casually and indifferently.

“What’s the plan?” the woman, who Ethan learned was Emma, asked Cain suddenly as they began their awe-filled descent.

“Fan out,” Cain replied. “There’s no certainties here. Go in pairs; if you can enter trials together, do. If not, well, don’t die. If you do, I’ll be very, very sad and angry.”

“Yes, yes, the eternal comforter,” the ‘Blade Princess’, or as everyone called her here-- Senna-- quickly waved him off. “I’m guessing you’d like some bonding time with your new kid?”

“No, I’ll go alone,” Cain replied.

“Oh, so much for the pairs.”

“Brooding lone wolf look suits me, don’t you agree?”

“Not even for a second.”

“Nonetheless,” Cain chuckled at the eerily unified response. “I’m gray and decrepit and haven’t been oiled in years.”

“...”

“So am I,” Emma said.

“No,” Cain shook his head. “It’s not the same. You should go with Ethan, teach him while he teaches you. And I... I’ll be doing this and that here and there.”

“Ah, there he goes off again...”

“Showing off...”

“I bet he’s gonna slay like 8 dragons by the time we reunite...”

“Na, he’s gonna go back in past and defeat like 12 armies all by himself or something...”

While the group listed off one insane thing after another, Cain stared at them oddly and sighed while Ethan looked between the two in confusion. The former merely smiled at him and shrugged; the reason why he wanted to go alone is because he first wanted to visit the few trials that he knew were the most impactful, stealing a few good fortunes for himself. The rest... well, that depended on luck entirely.

The group separated shortly after descending the bridge. There were innumerable paths and innumerable trials in the massive citadel of the heavens, and not even a lifetime would likely be enough to go through each and every one and map them out.

Cain began to wander around aimlessly for a while, just sticking roughly to the general direction he needed to go in. It hasn’t changed much since his last visit, mostly just a few extra people dispersed here and there, the white-marble beneath his feet, however, still remaining pristine.

He stopped abruptly, heaving his head up and staring at the arched curve in front of him. The ‘doors’ were about three feet wide and eight-nine tall, humming. The hum was low, and had strange conditions to being heard-- namely the inner desire to walk through the doors. Later, people learned that the hums represented the trial’s difficulty-- high-pitched hum, like that of a whistle, meant that the trial was relatively easy, while the low, droning ones that almost seemed headache-inducing meant that the trial was remarkably difficult.

This particular hum was someplace in the middle, neither here nor there, like a prolonged, slightly irksome tone of a piano. Cain recalled the distant memories, ones swarmed in the musty haze and fog.

By then, he was still just a lowly-nobody, a class-A moron who still had roses for eyes. Hearing the tales of the Ninth Floor inspired him, made him want to go and see it. But hearing the story behind these doors... killed that dream.

Unfettered, he walked through. A strange sensation washed over him, like the burgeoning waves that cleaved through him, clean and mean. He fought the pushback, storming on through until the mist that blocked his view subsided, leaving him adrift. A moment later, he found himself standing on top of a platform surrounded by the burning rings that framed it.

Fire burned like crazy, the rings appearing almost planetary. However, the platform was remarkably steady, unmoved, still and calm like an untouched lake. It wasn’t terribly large, perhaps about the length of a basketball court and twice its width, and save for Cain, there was nobody and nothing else on top of it.

As such, Cain calmly walked forward, toward the center, his head stuck high up, staring into the ever-rotating rings of fire. Staring at them... felt almost transfixing. There were eleven in total, yet they didn’t appear crowded. Though they varied wildly in size, they harmonized. Like a perfectly set cog of gears fueling a machine.

Suddenly, a window lit up in front of Cain-- it wasn’t that different from the one that appeared when he got a quest, but it was decidedly not a quest... but a trial.

[Trial of Fire-- Immemorial Rings]

Difficulty: Grandmaster

Attempts: 1

Participants: 1

Requirements to clear: Conquer 5 Rings

Content: stabilize the de-stabilized Ring within the allotted time. Failure to do so will result in an explosion, permanently decreasing your Primary Stats by 10% and expelling you from the Trial, further barring you from entering any other for 6 months. Say ‘Start’ when you wish to begin.

Cain glanced up at the Rings again-- the Trial was different, but it didn’t surprise him. After all, the Trials were designed based upon the Classes. The man who took it the last go-around was a Blademaster, and his task was to cut through the Rings in one strike. He managed to cut through 6 Rings before finding it impossible to continue.

As an Elementalist, Cain’s entire entity was about controlling the Elements. As such, he had to understand the very atomic nature of Elements if he wanted to succeed-- and this Trial tested that. He was fairly confident in completing the minimum requirements, but that wasn’t his goal. Rather, anyone who was satisfied with the Trials’ minimum requirements... never would succeed.

The Trials were designed to test the very limits of humanity’s aptitude; there were eleven rings, and Cain planned on ‘conquering’ them all. Not just 5 or 6 or 7. But all of them. Even if there were no extra rewards, that was the mindset one had to have, especially the higher up people climbed. However, there were rewards for the perfectionists. As for what those rewards were... Cain had no clue. This was a test, not just innately, but a test to see the exact framework and standard of the Trials and what he can expect going forward.

Though the Ninth Floor wasn’t as quintessential as the ‘Floors of Awakening’, such as 5th, 30th and 60th, it ranked amongst the most important ones because the rewards it gave out could not be found anywhere else. They were that unique in their design and even if their uses weren’t exactly life-changing, they were impactful enough to demand the best from the best.

Sighing, Cain clutched his fingers into a fist and relaxed a few times in a row, steadying his Mana. In truth, his control of the Elements, especially of Fire, was actually slightly lower than it used to be before his Awakening, but that was only within his perception. He suspected, still, that for the 9th floor, it was like using cheats.

“Start,” he mumbled lowly as the humming grew louder and the rings began to spin faster-- faster, faster, faster... until their shapes became colorful blurs. The first ring suddenly began to crack and distort, on the brink of collapse, as Cain sent a burst of Mana into it.

A structure appeared in his mind-- it was vast and it was a sight to behold, but it was familiar. A field folded unto itself, with nodes and points of interaction and with Mana-rounded pipes connecting everything. It was like a massive circuit on top of a microchip. Like a puzzle where the solution wasn’t to flip the pipes in one direction or another but to hold the Mana steady and prevent it from combusting, setting the whole world on fire afterwards.