DCD - B3 - Chapter 41 - Danger on the Second Layer

The city was ablaze. White stone had become smeared with red, orange, and black. Fire plumed over the walls, swallowing the sky and raining ash like snow.

Talo’s massive barrier—normally transparent and serene—now shimmered violently, pulsing with every impact that struck it. Constant hammers thundered against it as warbeasts hurled themselves at the city’s defenses. Adventurers, War Paragons, alchemists, and even crafters stood along the battlements, launching spells and skills, detonating artifacts, hurling concoctions—anything to push back the end of days.

Talo’s situation could have been called a war… if the enemy weren’t nature itself.

Outside the city, the land was ruined—scorched, cratered, torn apart by monsters. Inside the White Bastion, things looked almost as dire.

All because—

“Ah! Get it off me! Help! Get it off!”

A man screamed as he toppled backward. A crystal spiderling pinned him down, its razor-like legs digging into the ground on either side of him. It hissed, mandibles grinding together as it pressed its weight down, trying to impale him.

“Someone! Help!”

A sharp crack split the air. A gust of wind blasted past him as something struck the monster clean off his chest. The spiderling tumbled through the air, crystalline limbs cracking, before it hit the ground and twitched into stillness.

The man gasped for air, chest heaving—until a hand appeared in his vision.

“You alright?” Berry asked, leaning down.

He looked up at the teenage girl in the red scarf, her fists wrapped in red mana. Recognition flickered in his eyes—Henry Merrick’s daughter. One of the finalists from the Beacon Tournament.

“T-thank you,” he stammered, taking her hand.

“Head to the center of the city,” Berry said. “There are fighters guarding the left side of the square. It’s safer than here.”

He nodded quickly and fled.

Berry turned just in time to see a brown-haired girl—Risha—bring her claymore down in a sweeping wave slash. The arc of force cleaved another crystal spiderling clean in half.

Behind her, Manny finished a spell. A third spiderling launched upward as if lifted by invisible hands, then slammed back down with brutal force. A sharp burst of pressure sliced through the air afterward, shattering the creature into glittering shards.

The three regrouped.

“Where are these things even coming from?” Risha complained, exasperated. “They just keep coming.”

Manny shook his head. “There are so many around the city now they could be pouring out from anywhere. Dad’s checking the sewers—they’re the most likely source.”

“Seriously,” Risha muttered. “What is going on? This has never happened before. And now we’re stuck in the middle of it.”

Berry looked toward the distant sky, past the barrier.

Flashes of light. The barrier trembling. Explosions shaking the earth. The silhouettes of two figures battling with Talo’s War Paragons outside the wall.

Both Lorrin and Headmaster Laventis were locked in combat with unknown invaders—while still trying to protect the city from the empowered monster wave. And for some reason, the wave was far stronger than anything recorded in prior years.

“The good thing is these crystal spiderlings are still young,” Manny said. “Anyone who can fight can handle them. The problem is the regular citizens.”

“What about the warp crystals?” Risha asked. “Still nothing?”

Berry shook her head. “We checked an hour ago. Every connection to the other layers is down. Completely. We can’t reach anyone—and no one can reach us. Even city-to-city teleportation is disabled.”

“That’s probably because the city’s under siege,” Manny said. “If the warp network stays active, an enemy could just teleport inside the barrier. So everything’s been locked down.”

“But that means we’re trapped,” Risha said flatly.

Manny’s expression darkened. “Yeah. Lord Clament and the officials must be scrambling. I don’t envy them.”

Berry exhaled shakily. “Just… what are those invaders even here for? It has to be connected. The wave being this strong isn’t a coincidence.”

Risha stared up at the sky again. “Hopefully Mr. Lorrin and the Headmaster can beat them.”

Around them, more screams and explosions echoed.

More crystal spiderlings broke through the alleys.

Citizens ran for cover.

Berry, Manny, and Risha tightened their grips on their weapons and stepped forward. Just like any other War Paragon or candidate in the city, they had to step up. Their job was now to save as many people as possible.

⬥⬥⬥

Inside city hall, everything was chaos. Officials rushed in and out with papers and reports. Merchants came to offer supplies to bolster the defenses. Adventurers guarded the building’s entrances. Nobles assisted with organizing citizens into safe zones. Every scrap of help mattered.

And at the center of it all stood one man.

“Lord Clament, please. This is an emergency. She’s too valuable to keep locked up. Lives are at stake.”

The voice belonged to Serina Veylan, head of external relations—responsible for trade routes, agreements, and negotiations with neighboring cities. Level-headed and calm under pressure, she was one of Lord Clament’s most indispensable aides.

“While I don’t like it,” another voice added, “and I know the situation with that High Noble—Serina’s right. You gotta let her out. There are too many injured for the regular healers to handle.”

That came from Garek, Commander of City Operations, the man overseeing infrastructure, repairs, and most civic bodies.

Lord Clament looked drained. His hair clung to his forehead with sweat, and his face was pale from exhaustion. Disasters were breaking out across Talo, and everyone looked to him for answers. Even Lorrin and Laventis—the city’s two Obsidian-Tier War Paragons—were fighting outside the barrier, pushed to their limits. Whoever the invaders were, they were formidable. To battle two Paragons for nearly a week, they had to be Obsidian-tier as well.

“She is a security risk to the entire city,” Clament said.

“I agree. She is. But right now, I think a security risk is worth it if we can help stabilize some of the injured. Especially the War Paragons. She can do the work of ten healers as just a single person,” Garek urged. “None of us like it, but I think this is a necessary evil we have to take.”

Serina nodded. “I agree with his words. And contrary to why she was imprisoned—she didn’t do anything directly malicious to Talo itself. She was simply too caught up with her own machinations. The issue stemmed from that High-Noble girl. Otherwise, I don’t believe Celeste is inexcusably compromised.”

Clament sighed.

The greater good, he thought.

“Fine. Garek, go and let her out of the prison. Place a domination seal on her—we can’t risk her escaping or causing more chaos. It’s true that we still imprisoned her. She may hold a grudge, but its too late to consider such matters further.”

Garek nodded silently and left the office, heading straight for the prison. With so many wounded from the intensified monster wave, there was only one person who could turn the tide:

Celeste.

Former head healer.

Best, in the entire city.

She had been imprisoned for abducting a High-Noble child and defying direct orders from Lord Clament. Under any other circumstance, she would never have been freed.

As the door closed behind Garek, Clament turned to Serina. “Have we found the nest for those crystal spiderlings yet?”

“Yes.” Serina lifted a clipboard. “Guards stationed north of the city found a broken sewer grate. They witnessed several spiderlings crawling out of it. We’ve dispatched a small team—three gold-tier War Paragons—to clear it out.”

Clament nodded. “Good. I don’t know where these things came from, but at least that problem’s being handled. What about the current death toll?”

Serina flipped a page, her expression tight but composed. “The count stands at 783 citizens. Most were regular civilians. Some deaths occurred before the intruders appeared, due to the monster wave—fewer than a hundred were killed by the crystal spiderlings.”

Clament rubbed his temples. “How many were adventurers or War Paragons?”

“Seventy-four adventurers. Twenty-eight War Paragons. No A-rank or higher adventurer casualties yet. However… we’ve lost two platinum-tier War Paragons.”

“Damn it all…” Clament muttered. “What do they want? The monster wave—we’ve dealt with these before. We could have handled it with far fewer losses. But now that Lorrin and Laventis are occupied, the city is suffering.” He looked up at her. “Any idea what those two invaders are after?”

Serina slowly shook her head. “No. But it’s likely they’re looking for something—or someone. We’ve had people use long-distance sensing skills, but there’s almost no verbal communication from them. They don’t seem concerned with the destruction. Even if we knew what they wanted, there’s no guarantee giving it would stop their assault.”

“How much longer can we hold?” he asked quietly.

“My estimate is about one more week. We have food and resources to last, but the problem is the barrier. Mages and high-mana individuals are helping maintain it, but if Lorrin and Laventis fall… Talo falls with them.”

Lord Clament’s eyes tightened. He spoke slowly. “Are you saying Lorrin and Laventis will lose? That they’ll fall within the next week?”

Serina held his gaze.

Silence hung in the room like a blade.

Then she gave the answer he dreaded.

“…Yes.”

⬥⬥⬥

In a small altar palace in the middle of nowhere, grass whistled in the wind as two figures waited. The white-stone ceremonial platform sat alone in the plains, far from any civilization. Nothing about the place was significant—it was simply a convenient spot to meet.

On the platform, a man and a woman stood side by side.

The man wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his hair slicked back, hands folded neatly behind him. His posture was straight, controlled, and noble. His face was handsome, sharp, and composed. He looked like the type whose presence alone could end a conversation if he entered a room.

The woman beside him was the opposite image: lavish, flamboyant, and drowning in jewelry. A large black dress framed her fair skin; necklaces overlapped on her chest, bracelets and rings glittering with every shift of her hand. If wealth and extravagance had a mother, it would be her. Her expression was slicing and beautiful, bored yet carrying a presence that implied she could flick someone into the horizon with a thought.

A speck appeared in the blue sky.

It grew rapidly.

Then—

WHOOM—

A powerful gust tore across the platform as a figure slammed down from above. The man let the wind rustle his suit. The woman raised a barrier without blinking.

The figure who landed was a red-scaled draconid. His crimson hide gleamed like fresh blood, and his wings were nearly twice the length of his arms. Clutched in his claws was a rolled-up scroll.

“Vezavok. You’re finally here,” the woman said flatly. “I was starting to think retrieving the seal was beyond you.”

The draconid growled—a sound closer to shifting boulders than a human voice. “Shut it, Lumina. I was dragging my hide through the lower layer while you were making warp-calls from your home.”

He turned and handed the scroll to the man.

Custodian accepted it, unrolled it, and scanned the contents. The official council seal gleamed at the bottom.

“Good,” Custodian said, rolling it back up. “That means we can head down.”

Vezavok let out a low chuckle. “I wonder which pests we’ll be dealing with.”

“If they’re acting this brazenly, it’s possible they belong to the Godsworn faction,” Lumina mused. “It could even be Veraine herself… or one of her pets. Or an entirely different faction altogether.”

Custodian made a small gesture with his hand. A spatial rift opened beside him—not a standard merchant’s inventory portal, but something deeper and sharper. Two items floated out.

The first: a thin crown woven with floral leaves and short roots.

The second: a small mechanized glove of black and gray metal, its palm embedded with dozens of tiny crystals.

The crown settled atop his head, while the glove snapped itself onto his hand, fitting perfectly.

Item Name: Crown of the Worldweaver
Tier: Obsidian
Rank: B
Effect: A crown created using the natural energies of the earth. Imbued with the power of nature, this item allows the wearer to peer into any location they wish, scrying everything within nature’s grasp.

The tiny roots on the crown began to writhe and grow, weaving deeper around the gold. One moment, Custodian stood on the platform with his allies. The next—his vision soared freely above the Second Layer. He held no physical body, no eyes, yet he perceived everything.

He swept his senses across the entire layer at impossible speeds—far faster than any physical movement could hope to match.

After only four minutes, he reached the scene he sought.

And it wasn’t what he expected.

Talo, the White Bastion of the Second Layer—one of its major cities—was under siege, surrounded by ruin and chaos.

Waves of monsters, seemingly empowered by some drug or ritual, crashed against the barrier. And high above it all, four figures battled. Two he didn’t recognize.

But the other two—

“Livira and Jowlaw,” Custodian said.

Vezavok let out a deep huff. “So it is Veraine’s lackeys. I despise that Jowlaw rat. He gets on my nerves.”

“For once, we agree,” Lumina drawled. She turned toward Custodian. “So they’re making a move on the Second Layer?”

Custodian relayed what he saw—how the two intruders appeared to be forcing their way into the city.

“Must be something valuable in there. Maybe an acolyte candidate?” Lumina mused.

“I’m not sure,” Custodian said. “But from the looks of it, Talo’s own Obsidian-Tier War Paragons are being worn down. We’ll have to intervene.”

Vezavok cracked his claws together with a booming snap. “Then let’s go! I’ve wanted to tear that jester apart for years!” He glanced sideways at Lumina. “You can take that other shabby woman. I don’t care.”

Lumina rolled her eyes.

The crown atop Custodian’s head went still. He raised his other hand—the one with the mechanized glove. He opened his palm, and raw energy surged through it, setting every embedded crystal alight.

A moment later, the entire space around them shook. The surrounding ground cracked violently, releasing snaking fissures; the wind was sent spiraling, forming large gales that whipped through the plains.

Item Name: Voidgrasper’s Glove
Tier: Obsidian
Rank: S
Effect: A glove created using the compressed energies of multiple higher-ranked dungeon cores. This artifact allows the wearer to tear open space, forming a passageway between any two locations. Frequent use will cause irreparable spatial damage. Never use without considering the consequences.

After a few seconds, space finally ripped, opening a jagged spatial portal in front of them.

Lumina stepped forward first. She glanced back at Custodian. “I’ll go in ahead. You prepare the rest of your relics. I want the first strike on that vixen.”

She vanished through the portal.

Vezavok followed with a low, manic chuckle. “Heheh. What a fun day. Time to tear apart some Godsworns.”

He disappeared into the portal, leaving only Custodian behind.

He dismissed the Crown of the Worldweaver with a thought. The roots retracted, the gold dulled, and the artifact dissolved into motes of greenish light before sinking back into the spatial rift beside him.

In its place, he summoned a small cube—no larger than a fist. Its faces were etched with intricate geometric patterns, each section capable of twisting and rotating independently. The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the cube pulsed with soft, harmonic energy, shifting its segments in a slow, hypnotic spin.

He let it float beside him, orbiting his shoulder like a silent familiar waiting for orders.

Next, he reached back into the rift and pulled out a worn, yet unmistakable grimoire—the Grim Pullet.

Custodian opened it.

Blank.

Every page.

His expression hardened.

Enya Empyria… or rather, Lia Empyria. She should have been here—on the Second Layer. Nothing about this timing made sense—unless everything did.

A High-Noble from a fallen house, stuck in the second layer. Two Godsworns were now attacking a major city of that same second layer.

There was nothing coincidental about this. Especially since they have never been this proactive before in recent years.

He tapped a finger against the blank page.

“Why have you not written to me?” he murmured, a low edge rising in his voice. “It has been far too long.”

The last message she had received from him was regarding Lady Jira’s request to recruit her into the Crafters’ Guild. After that—

Silence.

Nothing at all.

Surely, she’d have written to him for some questions. To get answers for who was chasing her. To ask about whether she could come back to the enchanted layers. These were all logical reasons that she should have contacted him at least once.

Custodian wrote one entry to her:

<Custodian> Hello, Miss Enya. I wanted to ask: are you doing alright?

He closed the book and sent it back into his storage portal.

Maybe it was a fruitless effort. If she really was related to the Godsworn, perhaps as one of their targets—he’d find out soon enough.

He sent the book back into his storage portal.

“Perhaps one of those two down there knows,” he said simply. “Perhaps she’s already imprisoned. Perhaps she’s already dead.”

Custodian’s eyes hardened. “One way or another,” he said, “I’ll have my answers.”

He stepped through the portal.

Space folded shut behind him.

And high above the Second Layer—the sky trembled.