The creature, Nihilith, slowly looks around. Its ponderous movements only serve to accentuate how titanic it actually is, with every contact with the ground sending plumes of dirt and small avalanches cascading from its back. The dark holes in the mask where eyes would logically be sweep over the forest, and the mild facial expression brings to mind a satisfied god surveying its domain. I’m definitely too far away for it to pick me out of the sea of trees, but when those not-eyes pass over me, it seems to linger. The edges of my vision start to blur, taking on slight rainbow hues as I stare transfixed ever deeper into its gaze. It seems so close, as though I could just reach out and…

All at once, searing pain lances through my hand again, I snap back to reality, and I realize I just let go with both hands to reach out towards the Nihilith. I manage only a yelp of surprise before I fall inelegantly from the top of the tree.

Fortunately for my body, the ground is relatively soft in the forest and I missed a nearby patch of brambles. Unfortunately, my ego does not get off as easily. Lauren’s laughter is to be expected, but even Cerberus lets out something of a stifled cough in amusement. The worst part has to be Thetzeke’s obvious contempt. The ground shudders again as I try to stand, almost making me fall over again, and I find it very hard to be good natured in the face of so many things conspiring to make me look dumb.

Instead of trying to explain the blatant mind altering effects I suffered just by looking at the Nihilith, or concentrating more on why the rune on my hand started hurting again to snap me out of it, I choose to stay quiet. Sullen silence doesn’t look good on anyone, but I know I can’t keep from snapping at whomever I speak to in this frame of mind. I’d honestly not care that much if not for Thetzeke.

I don’t mind looking dumb, but I heavily mind him seeing me look dumb.

Except… he doesn’t even know that I accidentally destroyed that sacred lake. I checked this morning and it was still dry. No signs of coming back. I don’t know what usually happens during their ceremonies, so maybe this is normal, but I’m worried. We may be at odds over the actions of his people, but for now I need his abilities. It would be nice to have someone to train me in how their magic works, and we can only even start in on that once I have my Mana restored, so it’s safe to say I want him to stick around. Plus, his mom is less likely to kill me if she can obviously see he’s fine.

I give Lauren and Cerberus a half smile that I don’t really feel, and an awkward silence falls as we continue our steady march toward the dungeon.

---

As the hours crawled by, the shitty feeling faded, and casual conversation naturally started to flow. With our senses what they are, and Thetzeke knowing the forest better than anyone, we have little to fear from the various wildlife. However, Thetzeke consistently warned us that the archives indicated changes took place between cycles. Sometimes new monsters would appear, old ones would be moved away, and the general layout of the forest would change. Some things were constant, like the sacred lake and the location of their capital city, but the dungeon moved around, and the river’s path changed dramatically. The Ferin made sure to keep consistent maps and marked how things changed in an attempt to learn the logic or reasoning, but most attempts at predicting future layouts and monsters ended up being wrong. That, in itself, is telling about the formation of the world. While it’s possible that this race of knowledge obsessed druids was consistently missing some important variable or influence, the higher likelihood is that the creator of this world, the administrator, just hit the ‘randomize’ button every time. I’m sure it made deliberate changes as well, but there’s an element of unpredictability to everything that can’t be ignored.

Apparently the Nihilith is a somewhat new addition, which the Ferin do not entirely understand. Thetzeke had made a point to learn everything he could about the monsters and terrain for the purpose of his scouting job, but there was not much to be said about the creature. It’s almost a force of nature due to its size, and it is nigh impervious to damage. It rarely showed destructive tendencies, but it was known to absolutely annihilate seemingly random sections of land. The Ferin were never on hand to witness these wanton acts of violence, but assume it has something to do with the trials. While the Nihilith has a subdued response to the denizens of this world, the contestants are only tolerated at a distance.

Of course, he cautioned us to never meet its gaze, stating that those who did tended to… change. He struggled to elaborate further, claiming the Ferin were usually unable to secure and study contestants who succumbed to it, either due to their fellow contestants forbidding it or because they frequently died soon after the event. Most of their information came from the few rounds of contestants that developed peaceful trading relations with them.

He did not appreciate my pointing out that had been an option for this cycle as well. Something about ‘some information being worth the loss’, which actually pushed him into talking with me more… about Energy.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know about it, barring some really dangerous nuance, if you’ll teach me your magic.”

Thetzeke looks at me strangely, as if appraising my ability. “Perhaps. However, I warn you such instruction would be useless without the blessing of the lake.”

I itch my hand absently, suddenly very aware of the rune on my palm. Part of me wants to tell him and just play it off, but the other part worries he would ask me what my experience was, likely under the guise of gauging the potency of the blessing… and I have no idea how I could downplay it. If I tell him, he’s certain to know something was fishy and try to investigate or refuse to teach me entirely.

If I don’t he’ll likely refuse to teach me.

However, if he thinks it’s just an information exchange, such questions would make little sense. I’d be at a disadvantage without having his assistance with the practical side of things, but I’m confident in my ability to bullshit my way through things. It worked with Energy.

“No problem, I’m just curious to know. It might give me a head start for learning the more general magic.”

“General magic… yes, many contestants have been noted to use magic without an obvious patron.”

“Patron?”

Thetzeke opens his mouth and starts to respond before seemingly remembering something and shutting it again. “I cannot speak more of it. That is likely too much as it is.”

An unfortunate lull in the conversation follows as he grows pensive with a troubled look on his face, so I steer the conversation back towards Energy and start giving him a general overview of what it is and its capabilities. It’s obvious that both Lauren and Cerberus are interested in the concept by the fact that their own conversation seems to die off when I start pontificating on the matter.

Due to the sheer number of questions and clarifications Thetzeke asks, I’m thoroughly tired of speaking by the time we stop for the day. Thetzeke seems content for now, thank god, and instead starts talking about the impending dungeon dive.

In the darkness of the night, we sit and listen to him describe the possible enemies, traps, and general layout, all with the warning that anything could have changed since last time.

Beetles with incredibly dense shells that spit acid and make use of the gripping feet to acquire hard to reach vantage points to rain down terror are usually abundant within the tree. The acid only affects organic material, but it he still advises us to dodge rather than risk taking a hit directly. Cerberus seems entirely uncaring about such a beast, meaning his strange fur must be adequate for defending against it… or he’s sure he’s too fast to be hit. Personally, I wish I had a lot more metal on me. While I could protect some of my body with some paper thing Energy metal, I think I’ll be better off turning it into a shield; something I get to work on during Thetzeke’s briefing.

Giant spiders are apparently another staple. They’re not direct combatants unless they’re backed into a corner, but they do have a penchant for weaving runes into webs that work as insidious traps for those that fall in them. While my time in dungeons has trained me to be quite good at picking out such traps, it’s still worrying. Acid rain from above, and the very ground beneath us is likely to be trapped to shit. Finally, there are the Nihila. The similarity between their name and the Nihilith’s name is no coincidence. Those that gaze into the face of the beast and suffer whatever ‘loss’ Thetzeke described ultimately make there way to this dungeon and join in its defence. They never speak or communicate in any way after that point, instead mindlessly defending their posts. The denizens of the dungeon seem to intuit their condition and aid them as they would their fellow creatures.

…

I really dodged a bullet, apparently. I make a mental note to be highly appreciative toward the water spirit that branded me if/when it ever shows itself again.