Chapter 67: Rolling Stone

The Collector batted its wings and tucked in its arms and arakka legs, becoming an aerodynamic, serpentine missile of carapace and flesh as it rode the winds it shot out behind it.

The carapace on its face slotted over in one smooth layer reminiscent of a pilot's helmet, and its purple and yellow eyes shone brightly as they homed in on the ever-nearing dungeon entrance.

No discernable form of defensive force around the pit itself, merely a throng of insectoids that provided no challenge to the Collector. No defensive fortifications either that barred entry.

Yet, as the Collector hovered over the dungeon with Sapian force, it sensed the invisible psionic threads of manipulated space around the dungeon.

The pit itself was shaped almost like a maw, lined with teeth comprised of mundane stone protruding from its circumference while within the pit, the blue light glowing within formed an even and unbroken layer.

The light seemed to flux in between phosphorescence and a fluid state, shimmering and waving in equal measures in a surface that the Collector was unable to sense through with physical senses alone.

In other words, this was essentially a miniature warp gate of its own leading into an entirely different pocket of hyperspace.

'There's…there's the entrance point,' remarked the daemon as she squinted her eyes, trying to take in the blue glow of the dungeon from elevated altitude. 'And…and from the amount of mana distortion in the area, there's maybe…maybe two layers?'

The daemon further explained. 'Dungeons…dungeons, whether they're bound or unbound, have layers, but unbound ones usually have fewer. I think…I think bound ones had an average of five layers? While it's not uncommon to see unbound ones with just one layer.'

"Layers? Clarify this term," said the Collector.

'Dungeons are…are like their own little realms, kind of. Very tiny realms. And inside them, there are layers, each layer being a kind of, ah, a kind of separate space. All the spaces are completely separate from each other except from transit points that link them together.'

"I see. And presumably, these transit points lead successively down to a central point that determines the greater functioning of this 'dungeon'," said the Collector.

'Yes…yes that's right, I think. Usually, bosses are at the bottom,' said the daemon.

"And any vessel capable of interfacing with warp-travel would also possess a high probability of existing within this central point." The Collector clicked its mandibles.

Two layers. Two gates to travel through.

The danger in this dungeon was largely unknown, but the Collector could sense that the amount of magical energy fluxing from the dungeon itself was not too threatening.

A formidable amount, but none that would indicate a life-threatening presence.

'And…and you're right in sensing the dungeon. The quantity of mana coming from a dungeon entrance probably shows how dangerous it is, though there's always exceptions,' said the daemon. 'But…but I don't know much of what those exceptions are. Haven't read that far.'

The Collector made a mental note that the current flux of magical energy and psionic forces before it corresponded to a dungeon with two layers. Extrapolating further calculations and points of comparison would allow the Collector soon to determine the dimensions of a dungeon accurately soon.

The Collector clicked its mandibles. It could not always plan ahead nor know truly everything that occurred in the future. The dungeon was a source of many unknowns, but within, its mission lay, and time was sensitive.

What separated the Collector from more inefficient organisms was its capacity to adapt and react with unparalleled efficiency. It would rely on this trait now as it snaked its body down to face the dungeon, then flapped its wings to send it hurtling down.

When the Collector neared the layer of fluxing blue mana and psionic energy, it halted its movement, knowing that momentum in movement could be transferred and keeping it was risky when it knew not what kind of environment it would be transported to.

The moment the Collector hit the layer of blue, its surroundings seamlessly shifted into a completely different scene. It felt a momentary sense of warp-travel based nausea wave over its body before it righted its internal bodily processes.

The Collector immediately analyzed its surroundings. This area was subterranean, though presumably not deep enough to prevent oxygen flow from circulating.

Specifically, the area the Collector was in was a massive tunnel stretching far behind and in front of it, presumably linking into a much larger network of tunnels similar to it as well.

The dimensions of the tunnel were quite large, easily capable of housing the Collector, indicating that creatures of similar size could inhabit the area.

The tunnel was not dark. It was lined with lightstones embedded in the tunnel walls that gave off dull, spectral glows of various shades. Aside from that, not notable.

The roofs of the tunnels had tinkering signatures on them. Lightstones that jutted out from them noticeably, and unlike those embedded in the walls, these ones were all of a uniform color of blue.

Likely, a means to demarcate the tunnels for the inhabitants within.

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'I…I don't know where to go,' said the daemon as she looked forwards, then backwards where the tunnel stretched out at both ends. 'Hm…'

An ordinary group of humans venturing into this area would have found immediate confusion in determining where to go now, forwards or backwards, but the Collector possessed an extreme degree of psionic sensitivity, and it knew immediately the general direction of the nearest mass of psionic tendrils or, in other words, the next transit point.

The Collector slithered around and went backwards at full speed, wreaths of red mana trailing behind it as its sleek body well suited to roaming the even grounds of these tunnels.

'Oh…I guess you already know,' said the daemon as she looked down.

'Do not waste time and mental resources upon yourself. Focus merely on your surroundings and in assisting my abilities,' projected the Collector.

'You're right,' said the daemon with a decisive nod.

It did not take long before the Collector noticed anomalies. As it rushed through the tunnel, knowing exactly which paths to take when they branched, it could sense that there were traps inlaid throughout this area.

Pressure-sensitive stones to trigger traps, burrowed insects (none worth consuming), and so on, but though the Collector did avoid them in precaution, it noted that they did not seem interested in activating against it.

Likely because the Collector possessed the thrall's core. This isolated shard of hyperspace recognized the Collector as a part of it as a 'warper' and therefore did not act against it.

There were also no inhabitants other than the insects locked in a burrowed stasis, meaning there was no real challenge against the Collector.

This reprieve did not last long, however.

When the Collector after ten minutes sensed it neared the first transit point, the lightstones lighting the tunnels shut down, their light fading away.

The Collector clicked its mandibles but did not stop. Something was manually manipulating the lair's functionings. Likely, the goblin lord.

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As if to confirm the Collector's thoughts, it sensed the ground rumbling as it slithered down into a hole leading into another tunnel, this one angling steeply downwards.

The hole above the Collector closed up with a sudden emergence of packed earth.

The Collector's sensitive hair stood on end as it sensed an enormous presence barreling towards it. Judging by the relatively monotonous locomotion, not a living being. A rolling object.

It looked backwards to see a massive boulder almost filling up the whole tunnel nearing it, using the steep angle to gain momentum to try and crush the Collector.

'Should I use Sapia?' said the daemon as her eyes widened at the rapidly approaching stone.

'No. Sapia utilizes mana at a degree several times the expenditure caused from physical augmentation. I will deal with this,' said the Collector.

Red bands of mana coiled around the Collector's arms as it stood upright, digging its tail into the dirt like an anchor. A dozen meters before the boulder even touched the Collector, it began to punch into the air in front of it.

Bone binding drew out or placed power in the bones. In the case of the user itself, bone binding could be used to generate specific magical effects at the cost of straining their bones with excessive usage.

In the thrall's case, this was the mist form ability.

In the Collector's case, this was raw, destructive shockwave force.

As the Collector's fists shot out in front of it like machine gun fire, blasts of condensed, fist-shaped waves of energy surged out, slamming into the boulder.

Fist-shaped indentations cracked into the surface of the boulder, slowing the boulder down and breaking apart its structural integrity at key weak points until finally, when it neared the Collector's striking range, one single direct punch into the center of its mass both stopped and shattered the oversized rock.

The Collector clicked its mandibles as it saw steaming heat rise from its knuckles. "Now there is resistance.

But I welcome it. I can sense that it is possible for you, the specimen known as a 'Goblin Lord', to perceive my location from wherever you hide.

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If it is such that you may perceive my words, too, then know that in cowering away, your death will not be painless, nor shall you find honor within the Collective."

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