The path to Cantasia was relatively plain, with only the sight in the distance any break to the monotony. The sky around was completely empty. The only cloud that Jonathan could see was the cloud making up the city in front of him. As Willow had said, the cities were so far up that they were beyond the point that any real clouds would have formed. They were constructed entirely from the efforts of high level elementalists.
The one saving grace about the height was the fact that the insufferable spatial manipulation of the Dream King was barely in effect. The journey, about fifty miles, took only a few minutes to cover at a normal walking speed for the group.
The city came into focus quite quickly, and Jonathan was better able to make out the fine details. All of the buildings were made out of the same material, but that was where the similarities ended. Each of them was made in a different style, somehow blending together into one cohesive whole rather than looking like a mess conjured from an architect’s nightmare.
There was no wall surrounding the city, as for the most part, there wasn’t even anything in the realm that could have effectively besieged a city. The moss couldn’t leave the ground and neither could the trees. The Shades would be stopped by the force field.
A curious change came over Lucius and the other two Cantasians as they took in their city. It wasn’t what Jonathan would have expected. Rather than happiness at returning to their safe haven, the three men wore identical expressions of boredom. It was eerily similar to the guards who had waited at the edge of the cloud road.
Curious, Jonathan asked a question. “How long have you all lived here?”
Lucius frowned. “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m just wondering why everyone I’ve seen so far has the same expressions on their faces. It definitely looks like it can get boring up here. There’s nothing to break the monotony.”
Lucius sighed. “I have lived here for over three thousand years. Edran has only been here for two. Jalen-” Lucius pointed at the elf- “has been here for over ten thousand years.”
“Holy shit,” Eliza breathed, before clapping a hand to her mouth.
“No,” Lucius admitted, “don’t feel bad about saying that. It has felt like an eternity to us. I often want to scream profanities at the skies as well.”
“So how did you reach your current levels?” Jonathan wondered. “There aren’t any monsters up here, at least not that I can see.”
Lucius’ face brightened. “That is the one reason we all haven’t died from boredom yet. This cloud city, as are all the others, are built around dungeons. Each dungeon is large enough to make up for the lack of scenery in the clouds. The only problem is that there is a limit on how many people can be in at once. We each get month-long allotments, but have to wait until it circles back to us. Given that the dungeon can only hold a thousand people at once, it takes a while.”
At this point, they had reached the archway leading into the city and Lucius fell silent, saluting a pair of heavily armored guards standing at the sides of the archway. It was odd that he hadn’t given the same reverence to the ones at the edge of the clouds, but Jonathan supposed he would find out why eventually.
“There’s no need to procrastinate,” Lucius declared. “I will take you straight to the Elders. If you are truly able to break us out of this purgatory, we will welcome it wholeheartedly.”
Compared to most of the cities that Jonathan had been in recently, such as the titanic, country sized settlements that were the major population centers of Bloodspill, Cantasia was tiny. It was only sized to hold around a million people, meaning that it was even smaller than many of the large cities on Earth.
As a result it took a mere minute to reach the city center, even at dramatically reduced speeds. Jonathan and the others were barely moving faster than a car, yet the city whipped by incredibly quickly.
The people of Cantasia gave them a few curious glances, but for the most part they ignored the newcomers. Every single person there was higher level than even Jonathan, and probably stronger than many of the members of the party. Even the shopkeepers that Jonathan saw, ranging from blacksmiths to one especially out of place florist, were at least at the peak of Tier 8, with many venturing well into Tier 9. It was quite terrifying to look at, and Jonathan wasn’t confident in his ability to take on the city in a fight. While he knew he could easily defeat any of them in a one on one battle, he would need to be careful. The Elders would probably be far stronger than anyone else here, and a serious threat to him.
The palace at the center of Cantasia wasn’t much larger than the rest of the buildings. Nor was it much more imposing. Then again, there was only so much one could do in the way of gravitas when the building materials were literal clouds. It looked more like something out of a fairy tale, all minarets and domes arranged on top of a circular base like a cake. A flag flapped in the wind above the palace, with a ten spoked wheel on it. Seven of the spokes were larger than the others, with the seventh twice the size of even those. It was quite obvious what it was supposed to represent, and pretty heavy handed at that.
There were no guards around the palace, which made sense given that its occupants were the strongest people in the entire cloud city. Jonathan could feel their auras from here, twelve distinct flavors of power, one corresponding to each of the primary elements. Whoever was in there had far higher levels of mastery than he did, though not more power overall.
“This is the domain of our leaders,” Lucius announced as he came to a halt before the palace. “I hope that you will treat them with respect as you talk to them. Some of them are less… lenient when it comes to insolence from those they think to be weaker.”
Jonathan smiled slightly. “I will treat them with respect as long as they do the same for me and my people. It goes both ways.”
Lucius nodded, a slight wrinkling of his nose indicating his disapproval. Jonathan ignored it and started towards the open archway that led into the home of the preeminent powers of Cantasia.
The inside of the palace was much less bland than the outside, filled with tapestries and stone tiles that must have come from the dungeon. The stone was a pleasant shade of olive green, almost like jade had been worked into its structure.
Jonathan’s shoes clacked on the stone as he walked, feeling currents of elemental power coursing through the air as he went. The others followed warily behind him, almost as if using him as a shield against the power of the Elders who dwelt deep within.
The air became thicker as Jonathan proceeded, the distinct elemental strains growing stronger and stronger the closer he got to the center of the palace. The single hallway extended all the way from the front of the palace to its core, but other pathways extended outwards to different, unseen parts.
At the very end of the hall was a metal door that stood almost twenty feet tall. Twelve engravings of various warriors and mages filled the entire door, the details so accurate to real life that it almost appeared as if they could step out at any moment. Each of them were surrounded by swirling mantles of elemental power, rendered in shockingly vivid color.
The doors creaked open before Jonathan, revealing a throne room beyond. It was dark, lit by flickering torches and the power of those within. Still, there was more than enough light to render everything within sufficient detail for Jonathan to study.
There were twelve thrones, each carved out of a different material, and surrounded by a different aura of elemental energy. The central two thrones represented Order and Chaos, one surrounded by a haze of sparkling blue light, and the other by a polychromatic flame of so many colors that Jonathan couldn’t even name them.
On each of the thrones sat a figure, veiled in cloaks of their elements. Pools of light cast their features in a sharp light, save for the seventh Elder from the left, who appeared to simply be a shadow without face or features.
“It has been a while since anyone from the surface has set foot upon the hallowed ground of Cantasia,” the Order elementalist said, his voice barely higher than a whisper in volume, but still perfectly audible. He wore crystal plate armor and held a diamond staff in one hand.
“Who are you?” his companion, the chaos mage, asked, her voice a sing-song lilt that went through a wider octave range than should have been possible. Her face constantly shifted under the hood of her cloak, always that of a woman, but noticeably different every time.
Jonathan looked her dead in the eyes. “My name is Jonathan Harlowe. I came here with a proposition.”
“Which is?” a new speaker asked, the Elder that corresponded with the element of fire. His voice was loud and aggressive, booming through the room.
“From what I can tell of your people, you have been isolated here for thousands, or tens of thousands of years. None of you know who I am, is that correct?”
“We do not,” the shadowy figure said derisively, in a voice filled with boredom and barely contained disdain. “Should we?”
“I might be your way out of this predicament, so I’d say you should,” Jonathan shot back. “I killed Granath, Slothari, the Stillborn Hegemon and every other Circle Lord between the Ash Heaps and Bloodspill. I have come to Hollow Dream to kill Eventide. I wanted to make contact with the people of this realm before I did so.”
There was silence for a moment, everybody there too shocked to say anything. Then the Order mage scoffed. “That is not possible. The Circle Lords are the pinnacle existences of the Infinite Hells. Even after the realms’ merging. Especially so with Angranor’s empowerment of those monsters.”
Rather than replying, Jonathan opened his storage device and pulled out some of the older Hellbreaker quest rewards. The armor and weapons clattered to the ground before the thrones of the Elders. “Analyze them. That is your proof.”
The Elders looked at the various artifacts with suspicion, before, one by one, their eyes widened. They looked at Jonathan, some with expressions of wonder, and others with shock.
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“How did you do this?” the Order Elder asked, his composure gone. “You are telling the truth.”
“I did it the same way I’ll deal with Eventide,” Jonathan declared. “Hopefully with your help.”
“What do you all think about this?” the Elder asked, addressing his fellows. “Should we aid him in his quest? Unless those artifacts are the single greatest fabrications I have ever seen, there is no way they could pass by our combined analysis skills. Not at their Tier in any case.”
“I have a proposal,” one of the Elders who hadn’t spoken yet said. She was cloaked in a veil of shimmering purple. Not the pure purple of the Void, but the dark, bruise like color of Death. Her face was hooded, and a skull hovered over her right shoulder. A staff was held loosely in one hand, the end carved into a wooden scythe’s head. Despite the materials that it was made from, the gleaming edge of the weapon looked sharp enough to cleave a head from its shoulders.
“Which is?” the Order mage asked after a short pause.
The Death Elder shook her head as if emerging from a trance. “Apologies. My spirit familiar was communicating with me about the best course of action.”
“That spirit familiar,” the Fire Elder said with a derisive laugh. “None of us have ever heard it speak out loud. Is it just an excuse for your absentmindedness?”
The Death mage pulled back her hood, revealing a pale, but beautiful face surrounded by raven black hair. “We all have our quirks that allow us to live through the ages. Need I expound upon your predilection for a certain district of the city, Agni?”
Agni colored, his face turning redder than Jonthan would have thought even a Fire mage could have.”That is neither here nor there!” he barked.
“Then neither is the behaviour of my familiar. Now, if you have finished wasting our time, will you listen to what I have to say?”
Agni harrumphed and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. Jonathan couldn’t help but think that he looked like an overgrown toddler throwing a temper tantrum after being rebuked. “Fine,” he muttered. “By all means, Exandra, tell us what you plan to do.”
Exandra nodded, her smile vanishing. “We have spent much of our lives waiting for a way out, but doing little to achieve it. However, we should not bet on hope alone. While the story that this man tells is compelling, and exactly what we wanted to hear, until it is verified, it remains just that. A story.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t those artifacts proof enough?”
Exandra shrugged. “They are proof that you are strong enough to defeat some lower Tier Circle Lords. Not any proof that you have the power needed to defeat Eventide. Do you know any of the stories that surround him?”
Jonathan shook his head. “Not exactly. I assume you are about to explain them to me?”
“Eventide has awakened less than ten thousand times since the creation of the Infinite Hells. Every time he does so, he fundamentally changes the landscape of the realm. There were once tens of billions living here. There should be now, but every new arrival tends to be devoured by the moss. Other than that, Eventide is the reason this world is so sparsely populated.”
“He gains strength every day that he sleeps, right?” Jonathan asked.
“So you do know something. That is correct. Eventide grows in strength until he awakens. There is no upper limit to that power, as far as we can tell. He just seems to gain less the longer he sleeps. He has slept for a million years now, the longest he ever has.”
“How strong will he be when he wakes up?” Jonathan asked, a bit worried.
“Strong enough to erase this cloud city with a single punch.”
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t sound too bad…”
“And every other cloud city, as well as an area of the realm the size of a planet. His power reaches beyond physical boundaries. Through the Dream King, he can survey all of Hollow Dream with ease.”
“What exactly do you want me to do to prove that I can deal with something like that? I hardly think there’s anything else in this realm that can hold a candle to the Dream King.”
“Not in this realm, no.” Exandra tilted her head towards the back of the room. “But there is something in the dungeon that can simulate his power. The thing about Cantasia’s dungeon-”
Agni jumped to his feet. “You go too far! This outsider does not deserve to know our secrets! You might as well give him the keys to the city.”
Exandra scoffed. “Are you as hypocritical as you are hotheaded and arrogant? You asked me to explain my plan. I am doing so.”
Agni’s hands lit on fire, but a sudden whip-like crack split the air as the Order Elder slammed his crystal staff against the ground. “ENOUGH! You two bicker far too often. Do not embarrass us in front of the visitors!”
“I apologize for Agni’s misbehaviour, Elder Zakran,” Exandra said, her voice as smooth as butter. “May I continue?
“You may,” Zakran said, the tired tone in his voice indicating that he had been privy to many such arguments before. Shooting a venomous glare at Agni, he leaned back, letting his staff rest by his side.
“In the center of the dungeon dwells a monster called the Abyssal Hydra. Nobody has ever tried to defeat it in battle, as it has a Tier higher than that of the dungeon. Two Tiers higher in fact. It is able to store the mana of its victims in its heads. When it wants to, it can sacrifice them to replenish its mana reserves, and given its ability to regenerate, that allows it to live without fear of mana deprivation.”
“So it’s kind of like the Dream King?” Jonathan asked. “Only, I presume, able to move around?”
“Exactly. If you can defeat it at a Tier deficit, you might just have what it takes to survive Eventide’s opening salvo. It will be impossible to defeat that creature during the peak of his power, not without an overwhelming level advantage. However, you need only wait him out. After a few minutes, he will be no stronger than any average System user of his Tier.”
Jonathan nodded. “Alright. Take me to this dungeon then.” He turned around, and looked his companions over. “Do you all want to come with me or stay in the city?”
“Come with you, obviously,” Eliza answered almost before Jonathan even finished speaking. “We aren’t just dead weight. We have to level up too. This dungeon seems like a great place to do that.”
“It’s settled then,” Jonathan declared. “We’ll enter now. Once I emerge after dealing with the Abyssal Hydra, you can direct me towards Eventide.”
Exandra grinned, the expression oddly terrifying on her normally serene face. “Good luck on your journey, Jonathan Harlowe. You will need it if you plan to conquer the Hells.”
Behind the Elders’ thrones, a rift opened in space. It was filled with rainbow light. A formless aura spilled out of it, covering the entire room in its power. It was that of a monster, one beyond anyone in the room in power. Anyone that was, save Jonathan.
A few confused warriors stumbled out, seemingly from the middle of a battle. It looked like the Elders had removed a few fighters from the dungeon to make way for Jonathan and his allies.
Flexing his Divinity, Jonathan sped past the Elders, using Wrath of the Void to send his stats surging to levels far beyond their own. Jonathan spotted a few of the Elders following his motion out of the corners of their eyes, but most of them appeared frozen, either not bothering to try matching him in speed, or unable to.
The portal felt odd, unlike any Jonathan had ever used before. It left a coating of oily liquid on him as he passed through. Or at least, as he quickly realized, the sensation of oil on his skin without any physical presence. It was like a mantle of conceptual unease settling over his shoulders.
At odds with the portal, the dungeon beyond was a world of swirling darkness, gloomy mud and endless, abyssal swamps. Jonathan wasn’t sure why anyone would prefer being here to Cantasia, but as his eyes adjusted, he spotted a few rays of light on the horizon. What looked like a vast, glittering citadel bathed in the light of a distant sun. A lonely mountain peak that stretched up far higher than any mountain Jonathan had ever seen before. Perhaps the Elders had deposited him in the part of the dungeon that was closest to the Abyssal Hydra.
“Shit!” Eliza cursed as she stumbled out of the portal, nearly falling into the mud. “That felt so weird. Like I was taking a bath in a vat of oil.”
“Yeah, I felt that too. Something just seems off about this whole place. It must be the Abyssal Hydra.”
Arkanon emerged a split second later, easily keeping his balance. If the sensation of the portal had annoyed him, he didn’t comment on it.
Edgar and Eva came out together, floating a few inches above the ground. The sly smile Edgar gave as he looked down to see the mud below him showed that he had been more prepared than everyone else.
“How did you know to do that?” Eliza asked.
“Hydras always live in muddy areas. It doesn’t matter what type. I learned a lot about monsters when I lived in Telvaria. Luckily, most of the creatures in the Infinite Hells are the same or similar to the ones out there.”
“Where do you think the monster is, then?” Eliza said, sweeping her gaze over the flat mud. “I can’t see any evidence of it, or any monster for that matter. All I see is mud.”
“Most of the time, hydras live in warrens under the swamps, down where the earth is thicker and less likely to collapse. When they hibernate, they submerge themselves in the mud above their homes.”
“So we just need to dig then?”
Edgar narrowed his eyes and looked at the ground beneath his feet. “I don’t know if that would be a good idea right now. None of us are high enough to level to deal with a foe of this caliber. Even Jonathan probably isn’t strong enough. We are in a dungeon, are we not? This is one of the best places to level.”
Arkanon nodded. “All we will need to do is find some prey in this desolate wasteland. I cannot feel any living being’s presence nearby, save for the aura of the Hydra itself. Perhaps nothing else lives here?”
“That can’t be true,” Eliza countered. “The monster is able to regenerate its mana from eating other creatures. It wouldn’t be able to survive without prey.”
“I suppose that’s correct,” Arkanon acknowledged. “They probably are extremely good at hiding though. After living under the shadow of the Hydra.”
“What we need to do,” Jonathan suggested, “is make our way towards one of the landmarks in the distance. I assume that the Hydra is buried somewhere near the center of the swamps, and won’t be as likely to attack if we are further away. There’s also likely to be more monsters that way.”
“If we are to do that,” Edgar said, “we'll need to fly. Hydras are vibration hunters. They can detect anything that happens within miles of their domain from the tremors that travel through the mud.”
“Fine by me,” Jonathan replied, rising up into the air.
Everyone else used their own flight abilities and ascended above the mud, flying up until it was almost a mile beneath them. Then they started towards the horizon, using the castle in the distance to guide them in their journey.
The mudflats stretched on for tens of thousands of miles, empty and barren of life. The aura of the Abyssal Hydra gradually decreased the further they went, and a different aura took dominion over the world. One of purity and order, coming from the shining citadel. Despite its nature, it was just as terrifying as the Hydra’s power. It wasn’t the benevolent sort of order that kept societies running and preserved the mechanisms of life. It was the tyrannical order of a cosmic dictator, seeking to turn the entire world into nothing more than a moment frozen in crystal, where elemental Order was absolute because nothing else existed anymore.
“What do you think that is?” Jonathan asked, hoping that his companions would know.
As usual, Edgar had an answer. “That’s something I’d never expected to see. An Elemental Archon. It is extremely weak compared to most of its species, but still wields power far beyond its own Tier.”
“What is it?”
“There are different tiers of elementals, just like there are of undead,” Edgar replied.
Jonathan nodded. “Right. You told me about that during that dungeon in the first layer of Tartarus. The tiers don’t correspond to level, but to power above the norm.”
“Exactly. Basic elementals are the kinds of creatures that you would find low Tier summoners using. Possessing motive energy, but no mind of their own. There are only five Tiers of elemental. Basic, Advanced, Elder, Archon and Sovereign.”
“I’m guessing that this one being an Archon is a bad thing? How much stronger than its Tier is it?”
“Elemental tiers are ordered by the amount of their element that they can channel and embody. Basic elementals are just slaves to the greater element, the result of a sort of cosmic parthenogenesis.”
“Partheno-what?” Arkanon asked. “I have never heard that word before.”
“Basically, they spring fully formed out of the chaos of the universe without needing to be created. Even when summoners use them, they are simply creating a vacuum in the shape of an elemental that the ambient energy can fill.”
“What about the other types of elemental?” Jonathan prompted.
“Right. Advanced elementals have rudimentary minds, and control over their element to a limited extent. Elder elementals can wield their element with the same finesse as a similarly leveled System user, but with far more brute power. Archons, meanwhile, are vessels of their element’s will. They have limited authority to act as the interface between their element and reality. Their mastery far eclipses that of any elementalist on their level.”
“And Sovereigns?” Jonathan continued. “What are they?”
Edgar smiled thinly. “There are only nine Sovereigns in existence. The gods themselves. An elemental Sovereign controls the entire nature of their element across the entire universe. They aren’t just elemental beings, they are the entirety of their element.”
