Kae
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Dungeon Diver CH747
🕑 Added 2025-01-14 00:00:07 +0000 UTCAs a negotiation between Bri, Alveron, and Monk begins, many moving parts are shifting into place in the Upper Realm as well. Millions of kilometers from the Ellipsia Citadel, two Red Ogres stand in a translucent fast-travel orb flying above a sea of endless green clouds.
Syl, the slightly smaller bodyguard hired by Torvak to watch over Ember days ago, turns to Randel with a nervous expression.
“Everything turned out just like the boss said… He really faked his own death, or, at least I hope that his words are the truth.”
Randel nods, staring forward at the clouds on the horizon that haven’t changed much for hours as they’ve been traveling at maximum speed for quite a while.
He holds a small black access card in his right hand that appears older than anything from the Citadel they just left, other than a few old structures remaining from before the Vermillion Family took charge.
In his ether storage, a piece of an ether crystal has been separated into half a dozen parts. Torvak split the remaining medium-quality ether crystal Ember gifted him upon arrival, as they’re going to need every bit of it to bribe their way into the place they’re heading.
Randel tightens his grip on the access card as the dark outline of strange, seemingly random cubes appears on the horizon of clouds.
It’s as if planet-sized black and green cubes have been stacked on top of one another, varying from hundreds of kilometers wide to tens of thousands, jutting out in strange and unpredictable patterns.
It almost looks like a cubic crystal structure that has grown out of control.
However, a light layer of invisible ether surrounds every centimeter of this structure and keeps it floating, elevated above the clouds.
As the front-facing portion comes into view, more dark shadows emerge from the green clouds behind it, making the monstrous size of whatever this structure is unfathomable.
From a glance, it is easily tens of times larger than Ellipsia, but its true size is still hidden behind the clouds.
A strange, cool sensation vibrates through the two Red Ogres once they pass through the first wall of an invisible thin ether orb security surveillance system surrounding the entire floating structure. Notifications even ring in their ears welcoming them to the Fortress Citadel as they continue to fly closer.
Randel reflexively gulps and replies to Syl’s last comment.
“I hope so too… I’ve never actually been to the Fortress. I hope we have enough to make our way into the long-term storage rooms.”
Syl takes a deep breath in and out. Whatever wave of cold just hit her dulled her senses for a moment.
Her mind double-checks to ensure the small containment case with unknown items inside is still there. Torvak’s order was to leave it behind in the same storage unit they are retrieving his crafting items from. Feeling reassured when she feels it, she shivers and nods.
“I hope this goes smoothly too.”
–
Back on the Ellipsia Citadel, there are a few old standing structures from similar eras as these cubes, that have not been demolished and rebuilt by Andras Vermillion in the last 12,000 years. Roughly 4,000 kilometers closer to the central tower than the High Orcs’ tower, there are 10 large ancient buildings on a block of the city full of 2nd and 3rd Class Berserker Giants.
Within the oldest of these structures, with a similar cloaking mechanism that blocks those inside from interfering with the outside realm, Ember and Zashen have begun training.
Ember is only in his hybrid dragon form, though his entire body is glowing bright with white ether as he radiates concentrated mental attacks from the center of a massive training room.
Zashen, surprisingly, has none of his offensive skills or buffs activated.
He just sits in the center of the room with his swords by his sides, meditating, concentrating every single drop of newly refined Ether into creating mental barriers to block the ruthless rain of attacks falling down on him.
Every few seconds, entire mental barriers are shattered, and more of Ember’s full-force attacks collide with his psyche, sending millions of sharp tendrils of ether into his mind. But every time, Zashen digs deep and forms another barrier. He blocks the incoming attacks once again, giving himself just enough time to flood his mind with ether and neutralize what could be considered mental poison.
That is, just in time for his barrier to be shattered seconds later and for the process to begin again.
This is what the two have been doing for hours.
In the brief milliseconds between attacks, flashes of Ember’s words when they first walked into this room rush through the Berserker’s mind.
-
“Well, until Asic and Torvak can make you a better Avatar, there’s no use in tethering your soul to this one. So, until then, we might as well speed up your natural ether refinement. Plus, this will temper your mental defenses to withstand the full-powered attack from a Noble. I heard the Vermillions have been creating some formidable false demonic nobles in the Fortress over the last twenty thousand years or so. Seraphel said the one guarding the exiles has been weakened from an insufficient supply of Noble’s blood. But the ones they lock up for times of war must be quite fresh…”
The visual of Ember transforming from his human form to a black-scaled hybrid dragon similar to his memories triggers excitement in Zashen’s heart.
Though, Ember’s final words before their training began only spell out danger.
“I guess we’ll just begin with the mental tempering… say… until your new Avatar and soul weapons are ready.”
That, paired with the toothy grin Ember shows when things are going his way.
However, the Berserker Race only grows stronger in the face of danger and certain death. These words, and the uncertainty of whether the mental torture will end in hours, days, weeks, or possibly longer if there is a change of plans, add to the mental challenge necessary to break through to a new and higher level.
This is what the Berserker keeps as a driving force every time the waves of poisonous ether come within milliseconds of killing him, driving his ambition one step further each time.
–
Back in the only other ancient structure on the Citadel, the High Orc Tower, the black doors that shut to hold two Nobles inside still have not opened.
The street outside is completely silent. Those uninformed would not have any guesses close to the type of realm-bending training and lost knowledge from a High Noble being shared within those walls.
–
Even seven floors up, on the top of the High Orc Tower, Torvak and Asic cannot sense anything through the ancient walls of this structure.
Though, even if they could, they wouldn’t pry, as they have pressing matters of their own to deal with.
Torvak crackles with electricity as he paces back and forth along a wall that points directly toward where two of his Red Ogre subordinates carry out the orders he gave them before he went off to die in the public’s eyes.
He tries to wrap his brain around the fact that Ember gave him twice as much medium-grade ether as was necessary to retrieve his elixirs from storage, wondering if Ember truly predicted this outcome before they even met up in his shop. Or, if he’s simply overthinking things as memories of the last three wars during his 98,000 years in the Upper Realm surface and haunt him.
He barely made it out alive in the first war when the Morvale family had a large force in the Green Zone, but back then, he didn’t have the backing or the knowledge of the powers that be in the Upper Realm.
It was blind luck before he joined forces with a Noble Race of Wyverns, a Fierce Race of Berserkers, and the Master High Orc Crafters led by their battle-hardened leader, Asic, to fight in the second war 60,000 years ago.
While they should have all been wiped out, still unaware of the forces they were up against, one of the Morvale family’s dragons changed sides at a critical point in the war.
This was the era when Ember first made contact with what are now known as the Warlords. He turned the tide of war, shifting what was a surefire victory for the Demons to control the Ellipsia Citadel back into a three-way business partnership between the Ogres, Berserkers, and Orcs.
None of them know exactly what happened afterward, as the dragon and the Wyverns attacked the Grand Citadel alone.
Many of the Wyvern forces didn’t come back, and neither did Ember.
Though, sporadically, over the next 42,000 years, Ember would return.
He didn’t always betray the Demons or even reveal himself to them at all.
But it was obvious to the Warlords when he did, as growing forces ready to attack certain supply lines and neighboring citadels would randomly disappear. Often, within the same few years, gifts of ether or random orders with strange tasks would arrive that the Warlords were happy to follow.
Contact with the Wyverns was often brief. They dealt in the Grand Citadel and were very elusive and risk-averse over the years.
Without this mysterious dragon that escaped death for millennia, their business empire could never have thrived as it did. Of course, none of them would have survived the second great war to begin with.
But during the third war, when the Morvales ascended and a fifth Great Family, the Vermillions, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, the Warlords’ rule was toppled. Instead of being killed off entirely, after control of every Citadel was taken, the Warlords were slowly chipped away at both physically and financially for reasons unknown.
Torvak has lived long enough to know things don’t just happen by chance.
The timing of everything is too strange.
While he is in the dark about many things that occur in the Grand Citadel, he knows that if they were truly a threat, the Vermillion Family head would have killed them all the moment he wanted to.
The Nobles and 1st Class Demons may not realize this, as they are all too young to understand. Even Torvak is not old enough to see the full picture.
The Blue Ogre masks his nerves as concern for his workers heading to the Fortress. In reality, he worries that perhaps all of this is an elaborate 18,000-year trap—not one intended for them.
–
While Asic might be thinking something similar, he’s more worried about himself at the moment.
The High Orc sits in a large black throne at the back of the room, surrounded by hundreds of ether-powered devices with pure mana, concentrated divine threads, and a slow drip of his own refined ether circulating through his body.
He coughs up blood as he continues to heal from the most intense battle he’s faced in tens of thousands of years.
“Calm down, Torvak. All that matters is we follow his guidance. We owe him our lives, and we’ve had good ones at that. Whatever happens next, I leave it up to fate. I’m too old for worrying anymore.”
He cracks a grin and coughs up more blood.
Orcs’ lifespans are much shorter than Ogres’, by almost half.
While Asic is 103,000 years old, even the most resilient triple-ranked-up 1st Class High Orcs living the simplest lives rarely reach 70,000. He’s well outlived his wildest expectations, and sees every day beyond the 2nd War a gift beyond what he ever deserved.
The war-hardened veteran seems stoic, not much of a talker, but in reality speaking often requires energy he doesn’t have to spare. It adds up after thousands of years.
Ember knows this, and Asic knows that he does. Asic believes Ember wouldn’t have asked so much of him without a reason.
He speaks up again as Torvak turns his way.
“This time seems different.”
The two look at each other for a few seconds and say nothing. Then Torvak nods and continues pacing.
“I know it does… That’s half the problem. I never know what he’s thinking to begin with. Now it’s even more out of my hands.”
–
While the two reminisce on the past, Ava jumps off the edge of the Citadel, using the planned power outages to mask her departure. As she falls, borrowing a wind magic skill to increase the speed of her descent, she’s eager to return to the Hollow District—the outer ring where she left the huddle of goblins during her escape.
Her orders are to collect as much ether from the Exile Zones as she can, as an absurd amount is necessary to craft a device in the center of the Citadel. Additionally, she’s to free as many exiles as possible and bring them to the central mountain, where servants will help her transport them back to the Citadel.
The second part of her orders seems straightforward enough. Since the Demonic Cyclops Guardian maintaining the exile system was killed, all the simulated borders trapping avatars in certain zones are gone. Bringing them to the mountain is a task she wanted to do even before becoming entangled in all of this.
Ava starts at the central peak, she mentally maps out areas of the exile zones.
The mountain is still split in two at the peak, and many demonic guards wander aimlessly while demonic worms devour anything that approaches.
First, Ava kills the stragglers, raising her level even higher and collecting all of their soul weapons.
But as she prepares to venture outward, she begins to feel a strange sensation.
The fractures in her avatar, caused by overexerting the basic-grade model with massive amounts of ether, the perks of the Rising Emperor’s Link of Loyalty, and ranking up for a third time to grow in size, have started to leak her true mind and being beyond the limits sealed by the Vermillion Family Head on these creations.
Warmth like nothing she’s ever felt before pours into her mind.
Though she isn’t yet fully aware of what this feeling is, Ava is beginning to awaken her Ether Sense. The millions of 3rd Grade ether stones right beneath her feet may be far easier to locate than she first thought.
Comments
Dylan Mackey
Ember lore is currently my favorite to read though id like to hear the noble dragons lore
Tim Scripter
TFTC
STLCharles
Tyftc
Capplesactus
TYFTC!
Anders
tyftc!
Vergandi
Wooo more ember lore!
