The Path of Ascension Chapter 170

Chapter 170

Matt sat with Liz as they waited for their table at the restaurant with anticipation. This was quite literally their first break in the last three years, and they were savoring every moment of it.

They only got the break because April and Kurt both vetoed Luna’s suggestion of last-minute training as they were approaching Minkalla proper. Apparently, the view on approach was unparalleled in all the realm, and missing it was a sin. Luna herself didn’t even fight it too much, and agreed to cut them loose.

Minkalla, unlike most worlds, didn’t allow people to teleport into it directly, and forced people to fly in through chaotic space. Thanks to something thought to be tied to the planet’s cycles, Minkalla sucked in all free mana and essence from the entire star system, making it impossible to build the kind of infrastructure that teleportation nodes required. The only exception was at distant space stations, like the one they’d come from which need a ship to bring people in instead of the normal planet to planet teleportation.

When they passed through some invisible point, Matt got firsthand experience with the phenomenon. It was like they had traveled through a wall that had been built. At one moment everything was normal, and at the next, there was quite literally no ambient mana at all. When he tested it, and released some mana into the air, it vanished seemingly into nothing, sucked away faster than Matt’s peak Tier 11 brain could process. Essence would probably yield the same result, but he couldn’t test that, so he had to take Kurt’s demonstration on it. His manager’s second in command demonstrated an exposed essence stone being drained nearly instantly, with the contents being aggressively pulled towards the massive planet.

Apparently, the essence couldn’t be contained as well as mana could, which was the only reason that mana powered technologies still worked in Minkalla’s influence at all.

Ominously, he had written that, “Minkalla is hungry and greedy,” before silently laughing.

Still, it allowed for what was called a once in a lifetime view, and if it was enough for Luna to allow them to skip out on an evening of training, he wouldn’t dare miss it.

Aster hadn’t waited, and immediately went to the beast-only deck of the luxury ship to find some bonds to play with.

She called over her shoulder that she loved them, but needed some time alone as well, especially after their last three years of being within arms reach of each other.

That left him and Liz free to purchase the ludicrously expensive fine-dining experience for twenty Tier 16 mana stones. It was expensive, but they had been delving so far up, and so often, they didn’t even feel the cost. Once they started delving Tier 15 rifts, they had the chance to get Tier 20 skills, and despite how rare of a reward they were, they had delved enough to get lucky a few times. Their only limiting factor was their own Tier, and the difference between their own and Tier 20 skills, which put a massive burden on their spirits to use them.

They were eager to enjoy some luxury after their years of constant delving, and they both primped and preened beforehand to look their best. They had ‘masks’ in the form of a bracelet that obscured their appearance for all but themselves, which was just fine for them. They only cared about looking their best for each other.

And Liz looked as fine as ever. She was wearing what she referred to as a ‘Torch’ outfit, preferring the aesthetic that came with being a fire mage over the patterns and colors that she’d normally wear as a blood mage. Still, the Tier 12 fabric shimmered in oranges and reds, almost as if the garment was made of actual fire, as she walked. Her hair was let down for the first time in quite a while, and it spilled down her back like its own river of faux flames. She was still wearing her most critical items, of course. On her right hand, an engraved silver and copper-colored storage ring shone like so many diamonds, while her left hand bore a plain, fingerless black glove and a freshly polished but otherwise featureless silver ring.

Matt had the silver ring’s twin on his own hand, next to a golden ring embedded with countless tiny mana stone shards gleaming with every color of the rainbow. On his other hand he had two paired, obsidian rings which held their portable house and spatial ring that his rewards from the tournament had come in. The rest of his outfit was primarily based around that color scheme, with a silver, sleeveless, tunic-like shirt over black pants, and a golden band on each arm. His hair had been cut for the first time in three years, turning it from a blond rat’s nest back into a shortly-cropped and clean hairstyle.

When they were led into the dining room by an impeccably dressed waiter, they saw a massive wall of glass that spanned fifty feet high, and stretched on for what seemed like a mile along the horizon.

Matt whistled as it came into view. His spiritual sense said it was between Tier 20 and Tier 30 glass- a quick check on his AI confirmed that the ship was made of Tier 25 materials- and around ten feet thick. He was glad of it, because any rogue asteroid wouldn’t result in them struggling to breathe in a vacuum during their dinner.

At Tier 11, it wouldn’t kill them for at least a few hours, but it wasn’t something he wanted to deal with.

As their waiter sat them down, they nodded to the other indistinct couples, who were also quickly seated in rapid succession. The restaurant was supposed to time their visual arrival to Minkalla to right after dessert was finished, after all.

Looking at the tabletop, Matt inspected the vase of flowers that had been placed there, and noticed that they were actually made from metal. Notably copper, bronze, and aluminum, with each petal polished to a sleek shine.

Liz noticed he was observing the flowers and asked, “What’s so special about them?”

Matt pointed at the arrangement and said, “Each metal flower has obvious imperfections and scratches” He pointed them out and traced the lines as he talked. “Except, each has to be deliberate. They are perfect in their imperfection. Look here. Instead of clean welds where the connected metal should be indistinguishable on the join, there are small beads of metal that formed when the weld was created. That seems like a mistake, but when you look closer, you see each bead is exactly the same size and shape. It’s like a master artisan was trying to recreate the work of an amateur. The little bits of steam that seem to be coming out of them isn’t uniform, but they’re also perfectly placed to show off the flower’s beauty.”

It made for a unique aesthetic he had never seen before.

Liz nodded along. “It is pretty, I’ll admit that. The inanimate made to look alive.”

As they watched the sun grow brighter amongst the starry backdrop of the distant star systems in a stunning display, they simply chatted. They had been together for decades, and the last three years had been brutal, even by their standards. But they had been together, which was what truly mattered. Even so, they always had something to talk about, and they continued to do so while admiring the view.

In a rush, the first course of their meal came out to everyone all at once, and the waiter explained the intricacies of the dish before leaving them to enjoy.

The meal was so good, Matt and Liz almost forgot about their final dessert until the ship announced, “Minkalla will be visible in twenty minutes.”

They were still a bit far out, but when they Tiered up to Tier 11, more information became available to them because of their higher status. Most of it was still locked away, and not freely accessible until Tier 13, but Luna had drilled basically everything there was to know about the planet into their heads. It got to the point that Matt had once even heard Liz muttering Minkalla’s exact diameter and mass in her sleep.

As their dessert came out, they were able to see a small dot that grew larger by the second.

Matt had only taken a few bites of the brownie confection when he started to be able to see it, and his jaw practically dropped. Sure, he knew the exact position, size, and appearance of each of the three hundred and sixty spires on Minkalla, but it was another thing to see them for himself.

Massive spires of bronze and copper towered above any height that the metals should have been able to support, let alone while moving massive cogs that were the size of most planets.

Even through the vacuum of space, he felt like he could hear the clicking of gears and chains as they rattled and clanked, interspersed with puffs of glowing steam that rose from smokestacks releasing their exhaust to space.

Despite the sight, and though he had no real context for how the planet normally looked in-person, it seemed… dull. The metal wasn’t shiny, all of the mechanical components looked like they were moving lethargically, and the brass seemed darker than it should be.

Logically, it made sense, as a new cycle was about to start, preparing to re-energize the entire planet. Yet it also struck Matt as somehow incorrect. It was like seeing a dragon sick and withered. It clashed with the image he had created in his mind and resulted in a cognitive dissonance that just felt wrong.

The feeling only became worse as the sheer size of the world became clear. It was almost too massive for what it had first appeared to be.

Nobody really knew what Tier the planet was, just that it was above Tier 30. But grasping anything above that benchmark was impossible for the Tier 14 and below cultivators who could enter the place. Even with all of his prior knowledge, Matt couldn’t help but feel like the planet shouldn’t be able to exist. Metal beams that long couldn’t support their own weight, let alone raise and lower boxes that were larger than moons.

At Tier 40, or even Tier 50, could something like that work? Surely not… even then, they didn’t have the strength to span those distances unsupported. But there they were, right before his eyes.

The metal wasn’t the only oddity. The steam from the stacks shouldn’t be pluming in a place with no atmosphere, but there it was.

Minkalla shouldn’t exist, but it did.

It was beautiful.

It was awe-inspiring.

It was daunting.

The longer Matt watched, the more unsettled he felt.

He and Liz reached for each other’s hands at nearly the same time.

Like most of the other diners, they sat around and watched a while longer. But eventually, they got up as other ships started to appear in their view. The various vessels began congregating as they approached one of the eight smaller, repurposed planets that served as Minkalla’s moons.

Each of the Great Powers had their own satellite moon orbiting around Minkalla proper, and the pair joined the rest of the participants as they boarded smaller descent vessels departing for the Empire’s world-moon.

As soon as they landed, they were in their armor and ready for a fight at any moment, despite how unlikely such a blatant assault was. Once Matt was comfortable enough to relax just the slightest bit, he was struck by the absolute lack of essence on the moon.

It made the world feel unreal, like it was made from cardboard and tissue paper. Matt felt like he could use a single finger to punch a hole through the planet without issue.

He could tell that the man made structures were at least made of Tiered materials, but none were above Tier 7.

They landed with a swarm of other landing ships in an open-air tower that was hundreds of floors tall, allowing thousands of ships to stream in and out without impeding one another. Once inside, they found a dozen workers who directed the arrivals to a check-in station deeper inside the honeycomb-like building.

He and Liz were in their Quill and Torch Masks, but neither was personifying the alternative identities. Thankfully only a few people stopped and asked for autographs and the like.

They wouldn’t be using the personalities or skill sets when inside Minkalla; they were only donning the masks to conceal their identities. If they weren’t wearing them, they would’ve just used the same ones they had on at dinner, but going as Quill and Torch would raise fewer questions.

The masks needed to be seen entering the moon, at the very least.

Matt and Liz were both surprised by the volume of people waiting to enter Minkalla. With the Empire hiding so much information until Tier 11, they had expected fewer participants. But as ships disgorged their passengers to leave, and were instantly replaced, the numbers began to add up. That most of them were Tier 13 or 14 made sense, he supposed, as it was when most of the valuable information actually became available. It was probably intentional on the government’s part, if he was being honest.

Aster got to skip all of this, as she was technically being smuggled onto the moon, and Minkalla itself, but the pair had to stand in line like everyone else.

And the line was long. It took them nearly six hours to reach the front, where their identities were scanned and verified before they were allowed into a room with a number of others.

When the seats were full, a grizzled-looking old man walked onto the stage and pointed a finger above him, where an image was projected.

“Minkalla. A land of opportunity and hope. One can enter its steamy depths as a child and leave an adult. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. This isn’t a briefing of what different things you can expect if you enter Minkalla, what fantastic treasures lie within its depths. This is a plea for you not to enter.”

No one had expected the old man to say that. He seemed the type to shove them into the fire and tell them to figure it out. Instead, his words had an honest ring to them that all of them felt.

“Please turn away. If you leave now, the Empire will reimburse your travel expenses, and you can continue on living. If you change your mind at any point before you choose to enter Minkalla itself, that offer stands. Please take it. If you must, absolutely must go in, come back when you’re at the peak of Tier 14, and between cycles. Even for the older people out there. Just come back later and take it slow.”

The old man paused and looked around, but when no one moved in the auditorium, he slumped, and the image above him changed to one highlighting and labeling each of the moons circling Minkalla.

The image distorted Minkalla and each moon, making them seem more equal in size, but it served its purpose.

“If you are here, and don’t know what Minkalla is, I implore you to please leave and come back once you do. You are far too under prepared if you know nothing this close to the cycle. We don’t hide information if you’re Tier 13 or above, but the Empire still encourages you to avoid this place, even at that point. We and the other seven Great Powers each possess territory in this wasteland of death. Each of us send in our youth throughout the years, but between cycles, it’s not as dangerous. Do not misunderstand me, it’s still a deadly place, with one in ten delvers never returning, but it’s far, far better than at the start of a new cycle. Yes, the best rewards can only be found at this time, because the planet and its now greater population of monsters have been reinvigorated. But I can assure you… you will not leave with whatever spoils you recover. Come between cycles, after the glory-seekers are done and the Sects, Republic and Federation have left. You’ll get almost as much, if not more than you’ll get now, since you’re each four times less likely to die trying if you wait. Yes, it’s true that once you go in and come out, you can’t return, rejected just as surely as if you’re over Tier 15. But, and I will say this time and time again… Minkalla. Is. Not. Worth. Dying. For. For most of you, it doesn’t matter if you enter once or one hundred times. Most of you will die in your one and only delve. If you heed my warning, and venture into the depths in-between cycles…? Most of you will live. At least more of you will live.”

A small lava lamp appeared over the image of Minkalla, and the man narrated what was happening. “You could think of a cycle in Minkalla as being like a lava lamp. After a while, the ‘lava’ inside gets out of sync, all of it falls to the heating rune to be warmed, and then it all rises up at once. It’s not exactly what happens in Minkalla, but it’s close enough. We are currently about two months out from the next eruption, where all the floors will be filled and reset. When that happens, all of you poor souls will enter, and few will exit.”

The old man paused as if waiting for someone to leave, but once again, no one did.

“As I said, the other Great Powers all send in their young, but there are elite ranks from each that you must be wary of. The Young Masters from the Sects, the Heroes from the Guilds, the Alphas from the Monsters Collective, the Slayers from the Federation, the Gladiators from the Republic, the Chosen from the Corporations, and the Knights from the Clans, along with the Ascenders from the Empire. They are all the leading prodigies of each Great Power, woe unto any of you who encounter them. If you do chance upon one of these elites, run away and let them have whatever they want. It’s not worth getting in their way. And yes, even watch out for your fellow delvers from the Empire. You shouldn’t kill each other, but nobody above Tier 15 can enter, or even see into the planet. We can’t stop you. No one can stop you. Just you, and whatever morality you have and hold onto. But the real danger for most of you will be the other average cultivators.”

When he said that even Ascenders would be dangerous to the other cultivators, he paused his gaze on on both Matt and Liz in their masks before tearing his eyes away.

The image on the screen changed and transformed into a list.

“First, ourselves and our allies. The Conglomerate of Guilds. If you can avoid it, don’t fight them. They are our only true friends in a large, dark, and scary realm. We won’t pursue any deaths at all that happen inside Minkalla, but any occasion of a fight between us and our friends would be… Disappointing. AI recordings don’t work down there, so proof and belief will be minimal, thus you are free to behave however you wish. The Guilds will send in around fifty million people. That’s about the minimum that any Power sends in.”

The man paused and sighed, and went on a tangent. “Remember, only people below Tier 14 can enter, and the average is Tier 13, as are most of you. If you see a Tier 13 or Tier 14, the smart thing is to run away. They are probably stronger than you, but you should be able to escape. If you see a Tier 12 or, worse yet, a Tier 11, run faster and hope you haven’t caught their attention. If they’re strong enough to go in at that low of a Tier, you will be throwing away your lives to fight them. Individuals at those Tiers are monsters that us ordinary people can’t compare with. Equate them to the very best Pathers you see on the news, who have a good shot at making it to Tier 20 or Tier 23 on The Path, or even possibly completing it. Despite having a Tier advantage or two, you can’t beat them. If you see a Tier 11, you have no chance to beat them. They wouldn’t be here if they were too egotistical to know their strength, which only means that they are a true monster expected to complete The Path. Do you dare to risk your life on beating Duke Waters if he were only two Tiers weaker than you? If you think you could, you are wrong. If you believe yourself fortunate, and that the Tier 11 in front of you is simply delusional… you will not be lucky.”

The old man looked at them again, and Matt felt like he could see through them.

He knew he couldn’t, as he could feel Luna personally enhancing their Mask’s privacy enchantments to make them look like they were Tier 12. But the old man didn’t seem to need more than his eyes to see who they really were.

“We, the Empire, sadly send in around two hundred million youths, despite our best efforts. But our mortal population is much larger than that of the other Great Powers, so we send in a smaller percentage of our total population. We have quadrillions of citizens, after all. The Clans send in around one-fifty to two hundred million, depending on the cycle. Same with the Republic, The Monster Collective, and the Federation. The Corporations send about as many as the Guilds, around fifty million people. Sometimes more come, but the average stays pretty steady around that number. Finally, the Sects send in around four hundred million kids. That is a significant percentage of their youths in the proper Tier range, and each of them are ready and willing to cut your throats at first sight. Treat every interaction with the Sects as a life and death fight, as they don’t need a reason to want to kill you. Remember, for most of you the masses of the other Great Powers are who you need to worry about. Not the rare, strong participants. Minkalla is large, but we are sending over a billion of you in at once, and the deeper you go, the less space there is, forcing you together.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The image changed again. “These are the last few things I’ll be telling you. All of you should go to an information broker and get their full-day presentation and explanation package. The Empire even subsidizes them, so all you need to spend is your time. If you want to spend a bit of money, watch the one recording we have of the interior, courtesy of one lass whose Talent let her bypass the normal restrictions on AI recordings a couple centuries ago. But my point is, Minkalla, at the start of a cycle, has seven floors packed full of death. In addition, each floor has a rewards arena and a breakthrough point. If you’re lucky enough to get to one of them, take a good hard look at yourself and leave if you think you might not make it. Getting something is better than nothing, it’s not wasting your one shot. If you come out alive, let alone with even a minor prize, you’ve beaten the odds.”

Behind him, the Sects name enlarged and showed a ninety percent fraction of a pie chart. “The Sects will lose about ninety percent of the people they send in. A horrific number. Most of them won’t die because they’re weak, but because they push too far, and get killed by a monster or enemy cultivator. But in the end, most of them won’t come back. Dead is dead and it doesn’t matter how you end up that way. Ourselves, the Guilds, the Republic, and the Clans all have about a forty percent return rate. Most of you will die for the same reasons as the kids from the Sects. The people with the best survival rating are the Corporations and the Federation, at around sixty percent. Historically speaking, they are more conservative in their delving, and have a much better survival rating because of it.”

Matt nodded while endless drills from Luna replayed in his head. Sixty, forty, ten. Don’t push too fast, don’t overcommit. They should be fine, but they still needed to not die as priority number one, and had been told in no uncertain terms that they were to push to Tier 12 if they were too overwhelmed. Though how they were supposed to do that without any ambient essence, he didn’t know. Presumably, it was linked to the planet’s rewards, being the one thing that they didn’t know. Luna hadn’t wanted to distract them from their preparations with ‘idle dreams’, but they’d spent the last year learning about every possible floor theme that they might encounter, every challenge that had ever been recorded, and even the sorts of puzzles that had historically gated off reward rooms.

He wondered if they’d be pushed to get one of the one-day briefings, then figured that they probably would. Luna was obsessive at the best of times, but the preparation for Minkalla had been on another level. April probably had one scheduled for them already, and just hadn’t informed them yet.

The old man glared at the crowd and growled. “Be like them. The deeper you go, the better the rewards, yes, but the greater the danger. The monsters at the highest layers of Minkalla are only fresh Tier 14’s, but the deeper you go, the stronger they are, until they get to the peak of Tier 14. Also, for any of you who are at the peak of Tier 14, and want to advance to Tier 15 to get an advantage in Minkalla. It won’t work. We even have what happens if you try recorded, because people never learn their lesson.”

The old man poked at the air interacting with his AI until a familiar video started to play behind him.

A young man in Sect robes laughed on the screen as he monologued about how at Tier 15, he could defeat all of them. Except mid-sentence, he exploded in a fine mist of blood and bone. It was gruesome, but not unfamiliar, as Luna had made them watch Wendy’s entire recording eleven times. With all the rewards edited out, of course, because Luna was still Luna.

“If you advance to Tier 15, you die. You aren’t ejected from the planet, like if you try to enter at Tier 15. You just die. Not a single person has ever circumvented that rule. We have lots of reports come in every year about a few attempting it because of their Talent, some cracked skill, or something else. It never works. Don’t even bother trying, you will not be the first to somehow survive. I don’t care if your Talent is literally ‘will not explode as a result of reaching Tier 15 on Minkalla.’ It. Will. Not. Work.”

The old man lowered his head from where it had been fixed on, as he stared at someone on the other side of the room for a few seconds before finishing up. “Minkalla is dangerous. Killing each other is expected, and even encouraged by the planet. The deeper you go, the more likely you end up as someone’s prey. If you are Tier 13 and normally delve up to Tier 14, statistically speaking, you can get to the second floor without too much issue. If you are Tier 14 and delve Tier 15 rifts, you can probably make it to the third floor. At that point, just leave. Escape with the prizes you have, and don’t push further. Anything beyond the third floor can’t be quantified with statistics, as so few make it back from that point. You only need to meet one elite ready to pick your corpse clean of any gathered treasure. The real Monsters in Minkalla are the other people. It’s practically just luck to survive after the third floor, and you. Will. Not. Be. Lucky.”

He pointed to the screen, “Don’t be a part of that sixty percent death rate. Eighty percent of that comes from pushing past the third floor. Be smart and leave.”

As he looked over all of them, he added. “Let me remind you that you can change your mind at any time. Please, just turn back now and value your lives. Come back mid cycle and have a much safer time. Push to floor four, even five then. You’ll get less rewards per floor, yes, but you can go deeper and still survive. You’ll still get the deeper floor rewards. The people who go mid-cycle come back with more, and come back more often than those who try to go in at the… optimal time. It’s only optimal if you are strong enough to survive. For the vast majority of you here, believe me when I say, you are not. You will be eaten by a monster, or serve as cannon fodder for the best and strongest.”

With that, the man left, and the doors opened to staff directing them to various locations.

Matt and Liz shot each other a look through their masks. Luna had already explained this and more in their training. The old man’s speech just seemed to be a way to get people to turn back from entering Minkalla. It wasn’t anything they and everyone else didn’t already know. Really, it was just like a longer version of a briefing they had before boarding their shuttle. In the end, it didn’t seem to work, and only a couple people returned through the doors they had come through.

As they went through a few more in-process procedures, the number of arrivals started to overwhelm their sense of scale.

It was a never-ending stream of lines that only grew longer as more and more ships arrived.

It was so bad that staff walked around offering snacks to everyone waiting. There was even a service to hold one’s spot in line for trips to the bathroom, as long as you weren’t close to the front.