The Sand Land of the 33rd-36th floors was probably the most boring and obnoxious region of all the Lower Floors.
True to its name, it did everything in its power to mimic a desert. The floor was nothing but rolling sand dunes, with only the occasional twisted cactus plant dotting the landscape. The ceiling overhead was bright cerulean, like the open sky, and at its center was a single glowing red crystal. That crystal imitated the noon-day sun in more ways than one, given that it cast enough light to brighten the entire chamber and emanated enough heat to oppress it at the same time. The chamber was also larger than any other that came before it, in keeping with the Dungeon’s MO, meaning that it was large enough to contain a small city. Running that distance wouldn’t have been so bad, were it not for the countless monsters waiting to ambush unsuspecting adventurers beneath the sand.
Adama, to his mild chagrin, could barely go two steps before some Wyrm creature erupted from the sands and tried to swallow him whole. He made mincemeat of the thing in a short time, but it was just a herald of troubles to come. Swarms of Fleshstripping Locusts. Tribes of Lesser Barbarians. A horde of Giant Ants, which made the Killer Ants on the 7th floor look as harmless as the actual insect. Even another group of Poison Vermis. Adama dealt with them all as he trudged his way through the stinging sands, silently cursing whatever fiend was responsible for crafting this place. The entire situation wasn’t really geared toward beating him directly. Instead, it was designed to slowly wear him down. The tactic wasn’t working, but that didn’t stop it from being tedious. At least fighting in the sand was decent footwork training.
Adama trudged through the 33rd and 34th floors without any serious battles, besides the battle to keep sand out of his boots, which he was steadily losing. That finally changed when he reached the 35th.
As he was halfway to the opposite side, he noticed a rather large sandstorm being kicked up off in the distance. In the Sand Lands, that could only mean one thing, so Adama grinned and drew his sword, eyes locking fully on the incoming ‘weather phenomenon’. Where lesser adventurers would’ve run for cover or hid, he simply watched as a creature shot out of the sandstorm and hurtled through the air right at him.
Its face was a large, square mask of bone that resembled a titanic tower shield, with two eyes and an open horizontal mouth. Its body was that of a squat turtle with a yellow body and a black spiny shell on its back, flippers extended outward as it bore down on Adama with incredible speed. The swordsman was already leaping out of the way, but he was still caught in the backblast as the monster landed back in the sand and kicked up a massive cloud of grit. Adama tumbled a bit before re-orienting and landing on his own two feet, subtly covering his mouth as he looked around again. Adama tried to track the beast’s movements with his eyes, but the sand was making it difficult to see properly. He elected to close them and reached out to read the rhythm of battle.
With a quick step, Adama kicked off the sand and shot to the side right as the creature emerged from where he’d been standing. At the same time, Adama lashed out with a vertical strike that caught the beast in the tail with a spurt of purple blood. The monster wailed and twisted midair, angling itself downward to fall upon Adama and take its revenge. At the same time, walls of sand sprang up around the swordsman, limiting his movement. Adama couldn’t cleanly dodge the incoming monster, so he improvised. He traded Hearthblade for the black blade that Fels had given him and jumped upward into the beast’s open mouth before its teeth could catch him. However, the beast’s maw still clamped down around him, so the swordsman pushed back with all his might, stabbing the black blade into the roof of the creature’s mouth.
Adama’s muscles strained against the crushing force of the Sand Diver’s jaws. Its acidic saliva burned, and he couldn’t hold it back for much longer, but that’s what the sword was for. He poured magic into the blade to activate the sword’s special function, feeling a river of vital energy flowing back into his body right as he did. His muscles hardened with strength as his wounds began to heal, red power flowing into his body like lava. The Diver failed to crush him, and Adama began the Endless Sword’s chant. Before the monster could do anything else, the sword detonated with magic, savaging the Diver’s insides in a blur of blood and acid. It thrashed around and tried to spit him out. But Adama resisted, holding his ground before reaching down and cutting through the monster’s tongue with a single sword swipe. Then, he started up another chant.
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After slicing up the creature’s insides with one more Endless Sword, Adama left on his own terms. He cut his way through the side of the creature’s mouth and swam out into a sea of sand. After some quick digging, Adama made his way back to the surface. He dusted himself off and listened closely for any sign that the Diver was still alive. Nothing. No movement or rumbling, even of the creature running away. Adama waited for another minute before walking away, shaking his head mildly at the whole incident.
It was an ugly fight. Adama had underestimated the Diver’s ability to maneuver mid-air, as well as its sand magic, and he’d nearly suffered because of it. The whole debacle would’ve been uglier without Blackfang. The sword’s lifesteal effect had proven pretty potent in testing, and it was nice to have its abilities confirmed in a more serious battle. Fels had really outdone themselves with the weapon.
Putting the whole incident behind him, Adama switched to Hearthblade and kept moving. He was still filthy from all the blood and sand that’d stuck to him, but the swordsman put it out of his mind as he carved through yet another group of monsters. He pushed his way through the rest of the 35th floor, only to see things finally change on the 36th. The red crystal on the roof had been replaced by a much smaller one, which glowed with a soft white light. Both temperature and visibility plummeted, giving the impression that night had fallen over the previously scorching desert.
Putting aside the Sand Diver, the 36th floor was easily the most dangerous portion of the Sand Lands. Numerous monsters stalked the shadows, lying in wait for any prey that my waddle by. Reaper Drones, humanoid bugs with scythes for arms, dashed toward Adama with little warning and even less sound. Any yet, these kinds of duels were much more in keeping with the swordsman’s specialty. Blades flashed under the faux-moonlight, and sand swirled up to the ‘sky’ in a flurry of activity. After a minute or so of combat, Adama walked out of the dust cloud with a few cuts but little more, leaving a dozen corpses behind.
That was only the first of several bloodier battles as Adama traversed the Dungeon’s darkened dunes. Treacherous as these ambushes were, the monster’s blades were a poor match against Adama’s Endless Sword, and his semi-divine skill allowed him numerous quick victories.
For perspective, most Level 4s couldn’t even bypass the jungle floor while solo, and even many Level 5s would need to be extremely cautious while soloing the Sand Lands. The comparison made Adama’s domination of this area of the Dungeon all the more impressive, but he needed to do a lot more than punch above one or two Level gaps in order to win the upcoming War Game.
Eventually, Adama stumbled upon his next destination. In the middle of the nighttime desert sprang a small plot of land that hosted a smattering of palm trees and a large, clear pool of vibrant water. As Adama stepped under the palm trees, a slight hush came over the air, as if an invisible weight had suddenly melted away. It was a feeling commonly associated with the Dungeon’s safe areas, and Adama knew from both his experience and his reading that no monsters would spawn within this oasis. It wasn’t perfectly safe, but it was often used by adventurers as a resting place, and monster attacks were quite rare within the mini ‘safe’ area. Adama took some time to step into the pool and scrub himself fully clean, always keeping his sword nearby but still enjoying the feeling of being clean once again. He took a bit more time to recuperate physically, re-donned his clothes, then hit the road. His final destination, as it were, was growing closer.
After a few more scuffles, Adama made his way to the cave that led down to the Deep Floors. While the Lower floors were legendary for their dangers, the Deep Floors were something else entirely. Even the highest-level adventurers spoke of them in hushed tones, and tales of their perils were literally world-famous. The air here was different from the rest of the desert, but not in a positive way like the oasis. The cave absolutely oozed malice, and Adama was certain he felt the temp drop even further as he walked into its shadow. The further he walked, the more the feeling of unease grew. It was a thick blanket that seemed to smother everything, whether that was the sound of his breathing, the race of his thoughts, or the very feeling of life itself.
Evil aura or not, Adama pressed forward doggedly, eyes narrowing as the light situation grew even worse. His footsteps echoed menacingly along the walls, and Adama carefully held his sword in a battle-ready position, senses constantly on high alert.
Then, he took his first step onto the 37th floor. AKA, the White Palace.
