Chapter 144: 8th Floor

**Caddock, level 65 High Paladin**

They were at a party teeming with sycophants, aiming to secure funding from the richest man in the world…and Orev was treating it like a bit.

“So I don’t know if you knew this, but I’ve been to the thirteenth Floor and back,” Orev Harti said, subtly flexing as he made his best attempt at flirting with Maybin Glasswind. “No big deal.”

I think that man has a learning disability, Caddock thought to himself.

“You do realize that I’ve been to the fifteenth Floor?” Maybin asked, stirring her drink with a tiny glass spoon, staring up at the lean ranger with a cocked brow.

Orev glanced off to the side. “Usually that line works.”

“…On children?” Maybin guessed.

“…mostly. Though to be fair, you are very short.” Orev said, measuring her against his chest. “So maybe I got confused.”

“You do seem like the kind of man who would hit on children.”

“That’s not what-I don’t…”

“I present the Baron Akul!” The announcer said, his voice carried by an Ability above the chattering of the crowd.

Thank Granesh, Caddock thought, rolling his eyes and leaving the idiot to his own devices.

Caddock began crossing the party towards the baron. Typically, you were expected to mingle in place without moving too much so that the baron could make the rounds, visiting each cluster without missing anyone.

It was very rude to simply approach him with a business proposition, bordering on offensive.

The man’s attendants took it that way at least, the two of them forming a living wall as Caddock strode forward, forcing him to gently brush them aside as he approached the Baron Akul.

Caddock’s purposeful stride broke as he took in the man’s face.

“You’re not the baron.” Caddock accused.

“I have been since my father passed,” Luis Akul said, relaxing as Caddock didn’t make any more movements.

“Ah. My condolences. He was a friend.” Caddock said, his thoughts broiling. He’d been counting on the rapport he’d established with the old Baron. This was a setback.

Probably.

“Friends of my father rarely show their faces around me unless they want something from me. Usually money. What purpose do you have here?” Luis asked, looking Caddock up and down.

“Money.” Caddock said with a shrug.

Luis burst into a laugh, causing the nearby sycophants to frown, glancing between the two.

“I appreciate your honesty. Now if you’ll excuse me-“ Luis moved to walk around him.

Caddock stopped the baron with a hand on his shoulder, and the tension in the room shot up as the chatter around them went quiet as the entire party collectively held their breath.

“I never told you how I know your father,” Caddock said. “I carried his ass through the twelfth floor before he chickened out and went back down to play at being a Lord. That was more than eighty years ago.”

Luis glanced down at the hand on his shoulder and an ominous aura spilled out of him, flooding the party with dread.

“And that entitles you to a handout?” Luis asked, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“Word is you’re providing supplies to promising Lord candidates.” Caddock said. “I’ve got three hundred people that need food and water. Clothes, wagons, wood.”

“Promising young candidates.” Luis Akul said, a glowing blue forcefield manifesting long enough to pluck Caddock’s hand off his shoulder.

“I’m eighteen.” Caddock said without an ounce of shame.

Orev spat his drink halfway across the room, thankfully he was turned away from Maybin when he did so, avoiding being vaporized.

“And what is your purpose for becoming a Lord?” Luis asked.

“Retirement.” Caddock lied. “The church and I have been at odds lately, and retirement outside the tower was driving me mad. I already have the strength to become a Lord, just never had the inclination until now.”

“You’ve got one foot in the grave already.” Luis said, taking in Caddock’s advanced age. “You can’t possibly hold a Stronghold long enough for it to be worth it for me to fund one.”

“I’ve already got a successor picked out.” Caddock said, gesturing for Maybin to approach them.

The Nuker handed her drink to a confused Orev and approached, giving a graceful curtsy, revealing her background in high society. While the young woman wasn’t much for manners, she could turn it on when she needed to.

“Greetings, Baron Akul, my name is Maybin Glasswind, It’s an honor to meet you. Your father was a great inspiration for my Build.”

“Maybin Glasswind?” Luis asked, his eyes widening.

“Yes sir.”

“And who did you say you were?” He asked, glancing up at Caddock.

“I didn’t. My name is Caddock, High Paladin. No last name.”

“You want to create a Stronghold for your…retirement?”

“Yes.”

“I thought Paladins were sworn against such things?”

Caddock heaved a tired sigh. “As I said before, the church and I have had a difference of opinion. I respectfully believe that I can do more good granting humanity one more toehold in The Tower rather than wasting away in the Ring.”

Luis’s gaze slid from Caddock to Maybin.

“If you truly are Maybin Glasswind, then I could fund your operation solely on her merits. Having her holding a Stronghold above us for the next hundred years could be very beneficial for Akul.”

“That’s very generous-“ Caddock began.

“If she is Maybin Glasswind.” Luis said, snagging a drink from a nearby server and downing it before holding the glass out on his palm.

Over the course of a couple heartbeats, layer after layer of shielding peeled off of Luis and wrapped around the glass, until it was barely visible behind all the layers of protection that resembled rose petals.

“Show me your strongest cantrip.” Luis said, holding the glass out.

Maybin shrugged and took a few steps back, her eyes narrowing as she took a stance.

“Ahem.” Caddock cleared his throat, drawing the young woman’s attention before she killed someone.

“Show him your cantrip most appropriate for the situation,” Caddock clarified before he glanced past the wineglass and gestured for some of the spectators to move out of the line of fire.

Kids these days.

“Aim up a few degrees, please.”

Maybin sighed and dropped her stance, extending a single finger.

A wineglass-shaped beam of crackling energy bored a hole through the baron’s shields, completely vaporizing the wineglass before carving a wineglass-shaped hole in the wall, and presumably the city beyond.

“Gah!” Luis shouted, reflexively clutching his hand.

The baron’s attendants rushed towards them, murder in their eyes, before the man held up a hand to stop them.

“STOP! I was just startled, that’s all, let them be,” Luis Akul said, peeling flakes of melted glass off his palm.

He straightened, glancing down at Maybin, then up at Caddock, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

“You brought my father up to the twelfth Floor?

“Yes.”

“Let’s talk in my office. I have a request.” Baron Akul said, motioning for them to follow him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the rest of your evening, please. An opportunity to serve Akul’s interests has called out to me, and I must heed that call.” Luis announced to the rest of the crowd, who were now staring daggers at Caddock, having had their chance to meet the Baron stolen out from under them.

**William Oh**

There was no reason to hang around the 7th Floor any longer. Not all of the civilians, or even all of Will’s Party had reached level 35, but everyone had gained a decent amount, and there was no sense tempting fate by staying on the same plane of existence as Amanda Akul.

Safer for everyone to move on.

They picked up Arkesh on the way out of the Wyrd Stronghold’s immediate territory.

Since Will was already at level 35 thanks to Silverdeath, he’d been rotated out of the guard schedule, only being kept on hand in case of emergency while the other Climbers and civilians aimed to eke out another level or two before they made it to the Key Site.

The Boss monster guarding the Key Site was a strange monkey with a snake for a tail. It was only slightly bigger than a man, with unnaturally long limbs and a speed that would’ve made it difficult to pin down if they hadn’t ambushed it with brutal efficiency.

As they’d practiced, they’d assembled a group with a representative from each Party of the caravan. Alicia and Loth disabled the boss and each Party representative struck it with an attack, qualifying their entire Party in the process.

Once the boss was dead, they made sure everyone had the option to proceed before they moved on to the next Floor.

Will watched the wagon filled with the Silverdeath sacrifice roll through the glowing yellow Tower portal before he summoned his own, passing through it without a hint of his former hesitation.

The Eighth Floor smelled of old decay.

As always, the smell hit Will’s enhanced senses first.

It was dry air, that smelled of bodies that had begun to rot before the air sucked the moisture out of them and aborted the process halfway.

It didn’t smell bad. It smelled stale. Like it had once tried to smell bad and then given up halfway.

The sun shone through a haze above them, shining down through a strange haze that dimmed the sun and turned it a sickly purple color.

Welcome to the 8th Floor!

Miasma Acclimation: 8 days.

It is not advised to Ascend or Descend before the Miasma acclimation period has elapsed. Side effects of doing so include fever, bulging bloodshot eyes, coughing, pustules, necrosis of the extremities, paraphilia, parasitic twin growths, and Death.

There is a Stronghold to your West, and a Key Site in need of clearing to your West.

Again, it is not advised to Ascend or Descend before the Acclimation period has elapsed.

Will ignored the oft-reminded information about ascending or descending too quickly. He was too busy staring at the surrounding buildings.

Is ‘buildings’ even the right word? Will mused.

They were almost closer to crystals than what Will considered a building. Perfectly smooth cubes that stretched up into the sky thousands of feet, seemingly grown straight out of the ground, because there was no seam or indication that it didn’t belong jutting out of the cracked slate-grey stone they stood on.

The only reason that he knew they were ‘buildings’ was because of their state of decay. Several of them had cracked and fallen, the crystal façade breaking away and exposing obviously man-made innards, with obviously man-made furniture.

Desks, chairs, bed-frames, the skeletons of couches. The mummified corpses sitting in them.

How many people…would this city have to have to warrant such large buildings?

At first Will thought they might be palaces, but with the way the enormous buildings were clustered together, blocking each other’s view and not serving any tactical or aesthetic purpose other storing many thousands of people at any one time, Will had to surmise that was their purpose.

If each of these buildings could hold…say five thousand people…how many millions of people would this city have had? Will thought.

The caravan came to a crossroads, and as far as the eye could see in either direction, Will could only make out more of these enormous buildings, looming high above them.

Like the file-folder Lumesh himself might use to store innumerable souls as they await their final judgement.

Shoved up against the crystalline buildings were rusted metal carriage frames, pushed aside by generation after generation of Climbers to clear the road for their caravans, leaving only this cracked, but still useable grey slate that they walked on.

For once, the wagons rolled smooth and quick on the strange surface, rather than fighting with rock and root for every foot of ground.

“Milord.” Badur said, leaning close to Will’s ear.

“There is no life on this Floor. We will be dipping into our reserves exclusively to keep people fed. It had already been budgeted, but be aware that the sooner we move on to the ninth Floor, the better.”

Will nodded, his gaze drifting to a series of ancient trees planted along the side of the cracked stone road. They were ancient, gnarled and dead, showing signs of halted decay.

An eight thousand year old dead tree should’ve long since been felled by time. Scavenging insects would have torn them down to the roots in less than twenty years. The fact that they still stood…that implied that there no insects at all.

If there were no insects, it stood to reason that there was no other life either.

Just this mummified city, frozen in time.

It begged a chilling question:

If the architects of these wonders fell, what chance do we have?

Will glanced down and tapped his foot against the solid stone beneath his feet, recalling Arkesh’s questions about the quality of his nation’s roads.

Now alerted to the stone floor’s identity as a road, Will tried to follow it with his gaze until it disappeared into the purple haze in the distance.

Smooth, flat, perfectly straight.

Yep. We’re screwed.