Hell Difficulty Tutorial Chapter 787 - The Nest

I push aside all other concerns at first. The fingers scattered on the ground, the severed hand, the loot, and the alerts—they all fade from my focus. Instead, I stretch my perception outward to its maximum range, hunting for threats despite knowing these floors are typically secure right at the outset. I perform the sweeps repeatedly, rotating through every sense, until confidence takes hold.

With that complete, my gaze locks onto the hand and those four fingers. Detached as they are, a mounting aura pulses from them now that the seals once muting and concealing the velnar’s strength have fully dissolved. Blood dripping from the cut hand eats into the soil. Already, grass surrounding it towers far higher, and visibly accelerating, a nearby tree starts warping and expanding.

Mana leaking from the hand has surged beyond what I can contain any longer, signaling we must retreat shortly. Nothing in our possession seems capable of masking it, and any nearby Champion will detect it imminently. Even an Absolute might sense it from afar.

One final survey of the surroundings. It resembles rural countryside, and my probes reveal no trace of humans, beasts, or monsters. Utter desolation grips this modest valley cradled amid ordinary mountains that extend past visibility.

“We have to move,” I tell Tess while approaching her. “Can you? And how is Lily?”

Her left eye now hides beneath an makeshift eyepatch secured by threads wrapped around her head.

Tess points at the massive black-furred hand. Vibrant grass, blooms, and saplings now largely obscure it.

I shake my head. “No way we’re hauling it along. Soon it’ll slay anyone under level 100 merely approaching, and within hours, it could threaten even our level, spawning a hazard zone like those on the last floor. We must vanish well before any Champion spots it. Should we still possess it then, its worth would prompt instant slaughter of us all.”

“Got it,” Tess replies plainly. “I’ll handle Lily and alert the rest. Please check Biscuit.” She’s already striding off, her hand briefly on my shoulder to stress the request.

Her departure toward the group spurs them into action moments later, packing gear swiftly. Izzy remains injured, twitching uncontrollably. Tess sports an eyepatch from her lost eye. Lily lies insensate. Biscuit grieves the ferret, disregarding the deer he bore through the ordeal.

The deer’s corpse catches my eye now. Majestic in white fur and sweeping antlers, its eerie maws stay hidden from here. A tutorial-spawned beast, slain and dragged across floors.

The Lycan’s visage flickers in my thoughts too. That fleeting rage upon grasping his life’s memories as fabrications. Swiftly overwritten by vacancy as the System resets him to tutorial bounds. This remains a tutorial, Hell difficulty or not. Exploitable rules abound, lessons to grasp, cheats to uncover, survival edges absent beyond these confines.

No doubt lingers in me on this truth, yet encountering that Lycan outside would doom us eternally. Centuries—hundreds, perhaps five hundred years—given our levels and skills, unknown longevity awaits. But that defines our span.

To a velnar enduring millennia, our entrapment would register as trivial. For us, however, it equates lifetimes of aging into dust. All from one fatal misstep.

How horrifying that prospect truly looms. Pre-tutorial me would reel in terror, I muse.

I skirt the item pile I claimed, certain a low pristine rank lurks among them. Presently, they register as mere obstacles, irrelevant as I halt before Biscuit and settle down. Still, I labor to quell the escalating force from the Lycan’s hand and fingers.

Tenderly, my hand settles on Biscuit’s cheek. “I’m sorry for your friend’s fate.”

Silent, Biscuit yields to grief now absent threats, emotions swelling via our link. Regret stirs in me too, for doubting him on the ferret and letting biases sway judgment so heavily.

Trust comes hard to me, aware of Biscuit’s innocence persisting post-traumas. Unlike my threat assessments of peers or superiors, he embraces potentials warmly. To him, strength signals companionship, not peril.

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Greater faith in his ferret instincts, deeper trust—perhaps an alternate outcome awaited.

He murmurs quietly.

“Yes,” I reply, stroking him softly as his muzzle nuzzles into my palm.

“Izzy’s still alive thanks to your friend.”

His head droops lower into silence. Granting space, I dial back our bond briefly, then whisper softly, “We have to go. I’m sorry.”

Biscuit meets my eyes, nods, nudges my hand aside with his head, and pivots toward the group. The deer lies abandoned, forsaken by the corgi.

Joining them, we hasten onward. Sophie and I strive to obliterate passage traces throughout, yet realism tempers hopes against far superiors tracking us. Brief discussion yields false trails implying we glimpsed an Absolute’s severed hand and bolted.

Hope holds that none detect before floor’s close. Imagine: an Absolute, planetary sovereign, paramount power—discovering a peer’s hand discarded casually?

En route, I cloak our burdens: Elf experiment fragments, plus remaining spoils.

Meanwhile, a mind sliver scans alerts.

Congratulations! You have cleared the 9th floor of the Hell difficulty tutorial.

Welcome to the 10th floor: Wyvern Nest.

You have acquired:

Rewards align with expectations, considering scant floor time—far grimmer potentials loomed. Window dismissed, another summoned.

Floor Quest:

With people unaware of its true nature, the first Wyvern egg to appear in 100,000 years has been found on this planet and is currently located in the city of Hadon. It is set to be gifted to a local Champion in two months as the egg of a rare monster.

While no one knows of its true identity as a Wyvern egg, locate it, steal it, and keep it in your possession for three days.

Rewards:

This floor promises chaos aplenty already. Lingering with the group seems vital until their safety solidifies, permitting my Beyond return for the 5th floor Champion confrontation. Thereafter, perhaps the Everwood Beyond quest fits, spanning a week or two tops. Then back for 10th floor aid, its quest far less lenient than the 9th.

Irksome elements notwithstanding, fury eludes me. Catastrophe could’ve dwarfed this.

Two days on, hundreds of miles distant from origin. Traversing cities and hamlets for intel reveals 10th floor echoes 2nd floor vibes—people’s average levels, tech levels, societal norms. Chief divergence: feylith natives.

Winged folk with emotion-shifting eyes and hair, gifted in mental magics, though shy of Sophie’s true mind mage prowess. Statistically, they’d boast the highest mind mage prevalence across races.

Fortune smiles; humans and selari abound too, blending us seamlessly. Queries arise: System tweaks favoring thylarin encounters with kin and selari amid feylith? Irrelevant now, curiosity persists.

Per gathered data, we perch atop a peak. Below sprawls Hadon in verdant valley kissing vast lake shores. Million-strong populace boasts soaring towers rivaling skyscrapers, colossal trees matching heights. Upside-down pyramid defies gravity. Lake teems with ships, some colossal for thousands, occasionally ascending skyward.

No encircling walls guard Hadon, merely vast defensive array whispers—labyrinthine rules etching nodes citywide, sensors feeding data dynamically. Prolonged scrutiny dizzies me.

Tess sidles beside me, face etched in fierce focus, thoughts audibly whirring.

Her eyepatch endures over the left eye. Izzy’s tremors have ceased, recovery evident. Lily breathes steadily, healthy save unconsciousness.