The Ancient Root Guardian finally fell.
Its massive wooden body collapsed with a thunderous crash that shook the forest floor.
For several long seconds, no one in the Crimson Vanguard moved.
The battlefield was silent except for the faint crackle of burning sap and the occasional pop of a dying Mana Hornet.
Sir Aldric Valen stood in the center of the ruined clearing, breathing heavily as he leaned against his sword.
Around him, the forest looked as though it had survived a war.
Massive scorch marks covered the ground. Broken roots jutted from the earth like shattered bones. Craters marked places where Mana Hornets had detonated in clusters.
Their glowing corpses littered the battlefield in the hundreds.
Stormfang slowly slid her twin blades back into their sheaths.
"That… was the last one."
Her voice was hoarse.
No one celebrated.
They were too tired.
Gromm dropped to one knee with a heavy thud. The stone plates covering his enormous body ground against one another as he exhaled.
"That was the fifth attempt."
"Sixth."
Selene sat against a broken root, inspecting what remained of her arrows.
"The second attempt barely counts."
Gromm looked toward her.
"We entered the floor."
"And retreated before reaching the Guardians."
"We still entered."
Selene gave him a tired look.
"Fine. Six."
Darius dropped onto the ground.
"I vote we never speak of the second attempt again."
"That was the one where you said you could control the swarm," Talia reminded him.
"I was wrong."
"You sounded very confident."
"I was confidently wrong."
That earned the first quiet laughs from the group.
Aldric smiled.
They had earned those laughs.
Three days.
It had taken the Crimson Vanguard three full days to conquer Floor Thirty-Six.
The first attempt had nearly been a disaster.
Ancient Root Guardians had emerged from the forest while thousands of Mana Hornets descended from the canopy.
The Vanguard had done what experienced adventurers did when encountering an unknown enemy.
They tested it.
And the World Tree punished them for it.
The Mana Hornets weren't particularly dangerous individually.
But killing one caused it to explode.
Killing several together caused something much worse.
One explosion triggered another.
Then another.
Then twenty.
Their first formation had disappeared inside a chain of magical detonations.
They retreated.
The second attempt focused on eliminating the swarm before engaging the Guardians.
That had been a mistake.
With the Vanguard's attention directed upward, the massive Root Guardians tore through their defensive line.
Gromm had been driven halfway into the ground.
Tharok had nearly been crushed.
Sister Elowen had exhausted almost her entire mana reserve keeping them alive long enough to retreat.
After that, Aldric stopped treating Floor Thirty-Six as another battle.
It was a puzzle.
And puzzles could be solved.
They studied the enemies.
They watched their movements.
They tested the range of the hornet explosions.
Riven mapped where the swarms emerged.
Selene discovered the Guardians' layered bark armor was interfering with magical attacks. Fire that should have devastated living wood instead spread harmlessly across the enchanted plates.
Stormfang and Brakka discovered that once sections of the armor were broken away, that changed considerably.
The third attempt had been better.
Gromm and Tharok held the Guardians.
Stormfang and Brakka attacked their armor.
Selene targeted exposed seams.
Darius waited until wood was exposed before using fire.
Talia froze damaged joints and roots.
Mira and Orin supported the defensive line while Sister Elowen kept everyone standing.
And Riven called out approaching swarms before they reached the group.
They nearly succeeded.
Then a Mana Hornet slipped through.
Darius killed it.
The explosion killed three more.
Those explosions killed dozens.
The resulting chain reaction overwhelmed their support line.
They retreated again.
That night, no one slept much.
They talked.
Argued.
Changed positions.
Changed tactics.
Cassian suggested rotating their defensive enhancements instead of maintaining them constantly to conserve mana.
Mira developed a way to use barriers to redirect the force of smaller explosions.
And Lily—
Lily discovered something else.
The small, quiet girl stood several yards away now, her enormous black scythe resting against her shoulder.
She was covered in soot.
Her dark clothing had several fresh tears.
And there was a tiny smile on her face.
Aldric looked at her.
"You enjoyed that."
Lily's smile disappeared.
"No."
Stormfang laughed.
"You absolutely enjoyed that."
Lily looked away.
The breakthrough had come when she discovered the length and arc of her scythe allowed her to detonate Mana Hornets far enough away to avoid the worst of the blast.
After that, the strategy changed again.
They stopped trying to prevent the explosions.
They started controlling them.
Riven identified clusters.
Selene fired first.
Lily followed.
One carefully chosen hornet became ten.
Ten became fifty.
Entire sections of the swarm could be erased by their own explosions.
It was dangerous.
It required precise timing.
And if they made a mistake, the same chain reaction could kill them.
The fourth attempt failed.
The fifth came close.
The sixth—
Aldric looked at the enormous Ancient Root Guardian lying before him.
The sixth had worked.
Gromm and Tharok had alternated holding the Guardians' attention.
Stormfang and Brakka shattered their armor.
Selene and Lily controlled the skies.
Darius burned exposed wood.
Talia froze damaged sections and prevented the Guardians from regenerating as quickly.
Mira protected their flanks.
Orin strengthened whichever section of the formation began to buckle.
Cassian's magic kept exhausted bodies moving long after they should have stopped.
Riven called the battlefield.
And Sister Elowen somehow kept fourteen people alive.
They hadn't overwhelmed the floor.
They had solved it.
Together.
Aldric finally pushed himself upright.
"Report."
Stormfang raised a hand.
"A few major injuries being tended to. Everyone else seems to have minor injuries."
Elowen immediately looked at her.
Stormfang sighed.
"Moderate injuries."
"Better."
"Mana?"
Stormfang glanced around.
"Bad."
Darius laughed weakly from the ground.
"I'm dry. Completely."
Talia nodded.
"Almost."
Mira raised her hand.
"Less than twenty percent."
Orin looked even worse.
Cassian was lying flat on his back.
He raised one finger.
"I would like my official report to state that I heroically used everything."
"No one asked," Brakka said.
"I still want it recorded."
Selene lifted her quiver.
"Eighteen arrows."
Riven looked at it.
"Seventeen."
Selene frowned.
He pointed toward one sticking from the ground beside her.
She picked it up.
"Eighteen."
Gromm finally stood, cracking his massive shoulders.
"My armor requires repair."
Tharok looked at the enormous missing section along Gromm's side.
"That's one way to put it."
Gromm inspected the damage.
"It has been worse."
"When?"
Gromm considered the question.
"When it was being made, I assume."
A few more tired laughs moved through the clearing.
Aldric looked at his companions.
Every one of them was exhausted.
Armor was damaged.
Weapons needed repair.
Mana reserves were nearly empty.
They had been pushed harder than any floor before it.
But all fourteen were standing.
That mattered more than anything else.
"We won," Aldric said.
The laughter faded.
Everyone looked toward him.
He smiled.
"Floor Thirty-Six belongs to the Crimson Vanguard."
Gromm raised one enormous fist.
This time, the cheer came.
It wasn't loud.
They didn't have enough energy left for loud.
But it was theirs.
Aldric allowed them the moment before turning toward the massive staircase leading upward.
The carved wooden steps spiraled deeper into the World Tree.
Floor Thirty-Seven waited above.
Stormfang followed his gaze.
"This raid is escalating faster than expected."
"Floor Thirty was manageable," Darius said.
"Thirty-five was difficult."
Talia looked across the devastated clearing.
"And this took three days."
Selene stared toward the staircase.
"We're not even sure we're halfway."
No one answered.
No one knew how many floors the World Tree contained.
Some stories claimed fifty.
Others said one hundred.
There were even legends claiming the World Tree had no final floor at all.
Aldric had never put much faith in legends.
Unfortunately, after Floor Thirty-Six, some of them were becoming easier to believe.
Gromm stepped beside him.
"The Crimson Vanguard still leads."
Aldric glanced toward him.
Gromm's expression held complete confidence.
Perhaps he was right.
The Crimson Vanguard had entered during an earlier window than most of the other groups. They were among the strongest adventuring parties to attempt the World Tree in years.
But inside the World Tree, time was unreliable.
Different parties experienced the raid differently.
Entry times meant little once the Tree closed around them.
There was no way to know where another group was.
No way to know how quickly they were advancing.
No way to know whether another party had already faced this floor.
Stormfang seemed to read his thoughts.
"You're thinking about him again."
Aldric didn't need to ask who she meant.
Gromm smiled.
"Jax Darquebane."
Darius groaned from the ground.
"The carriage man?"
"The Vixens," Selene corrected.
That drew everyone's attention.
Aldric looked toward her.
"What about them?"
Selene shrugged.
"I'm wondering how they would handle this floor."
Brakka laughed.
"The same way we did."
"Eventually," Tharok added.
Aldric wasn't so certain.
He remembered Jax.
The dimensional carriage.
The impossible interior.
The weapons.
The four women traveling with him.
And perhaps most troubling of all—
The man's complete lack of concern.
Jax hadn't carried himself like an adventurer preparing to enter one of the most dangerous raids in the world.
He had looked like a man going on vacation.
Aldric looked back across the ruined battlefield.
Burning sap.
Broken roots.
Dead hornets.
Three days.
Six attempts.
The Crimson Vanguard had conquered it through discipline, experience and teamwork.
They had done everything correctly.
He was proud of them.
And still—
He wondered.
Gromm folded his enormous arms.
"We are ahead."
Aldric smiled.
"Yes."
He looked toward the staircase.
"For now."
He wasn't sure whether he was agreeing with Gromm or trying to convince himself.
Either way, it didn't matter.
Another party's progress wasn't their concern.
The Crimson Vanguard had survived because they didn't take unnecessary risks.
They didn't chase glory.
And they didn't sacrifice lives for speed.
Aldric turned back toward his companions.
"We camp here."
Stormfang looked toward him.
"How long?"
"Until tomorrow."
A few expressions showed surprise.
Nobody objected.
Aldric pointed toward Darius.
"He can barely sit up."
"I can sit up."
Darius attempted it.
He made it halfway.
Then lay back down.
Aldric continued.
"Gromm's armor needs rebuilding. Selene needs time to replenish her arrows. Half of you are below thirty percent mana, and Elowen has spent three days keeping us alive."
Sister Elowen smiled tiredly.
"Thank you for noticing."
"No one enters Floor Thirty-Seven until Elowen clears every member of this party."
Darius raised his head slightly.
"Slow and steady?"
Aldric nodded.
"Slow and alive."
Gromm grunted approvingly.
"That is better."
The decision made, the Crimson Vanguard went to work.
Their temporary camp slowly took shape in the clearing.
System windows appeared as supplies began emerging from Storage.
Bedrolls.
Food.
Water.
Repair kits.
Replacement weapons.
Spare armor.
The Crimson Vanguard hadn't entered the World Tree expecting their equipment to remain intact.
Gromm sat while Tharok helped remove one of the shattered plates from his armor. A replacement emerged from Storage moments later.
It wasn't an exact match.
Neither was the next.
By the time they finished, Gromm's armor looked less like a single suit and more like several different suits had contributed pieces to keep one of them alive.
Gromm inspected himself.
"I look ridiculous."
Tharok tightened a strap.
"You always look ridiculous."
Gromm considered that.
"Then the repairs are successful."
Stormfang laughed from across the camp.
Several others were doing the same.
Damaged armor was stripped away. Replacement pieces were pulled from Storage. Bent buckles were exchanged. Torn straps were replaced. Cracked plates were discarded.
Some carried complete replacement sets.
Others carried individual pieces collected specifically because they could be fitted to several different suits.
It wasn't elegant.
It didn't need to be.
It needed to survive the next floor.
Weapons received similar attention.
Stormfang inspected the edge of one of her blades, frowned, then returned it to Storage and drew out a replacement.
Brakka sat with a sharpening stone and worked on one of his axes.
Lily silently inspected the blade of her enormous scythe.
Selene had a different problem.
She sat cross-legged beside her quiver and counted again.
"Eighteen."
Riven looked over.
"You're very proud of that eighteenth arrow."
"I went back for it."
Selene opened her System Storage.
A small metal case appeared beside her.
She unfolded it.
Then unfolded it again.
Sections slid outward until the compact box became a miniature magical workbench.
Riven watched.
"How many times does that thing unfold?"
Selene pulled out another section.
"One more."
It unfolded again.
Riven nodded.
"Of course."
Selene ignored him.
She inserted a mana crystal into a socket along the side.
Runes illuminated across the device.
A faint magical hum filled the air.
Next came bundles of prepared shafts, feathers and containers holding material for arrowheads, all pulled from her Storage and placed into separate compartments.
The first shaft slowly moved into the device.
Riven watched it.
Then he watched some more.
"This is going to take a while."
"Yes."
"How long?"
Selene checked the mana crystal.
"Most of the night."
Riven looked toward her nearly empty quiver.
"And by morning?"
Selene smiled.
"Full."
The first completed arrow slid quietly into a collection tray.
Riven picked it up.
Perfectly straight.
Balanced.
Sharp.
He handed it to her.
"Eighteen."
Selene placed it into her quiver.
"Nineteen."
For the first time since the battle ended, she looked genuinely pleased.
Across the camp, similar preparations continued.
Because experienced adventurers understood something inexperienced ones often learned the hard way.
Surviving a raid wasn't only about defeating monsters.
It was about being ready for the next ones.
Health had to recover.
Mana had to replenish.
Armor had to be repaired.
Weapons had to be maintained.
Ammunition had to be replaced.
Food had to be eaten.
Bodies needed sleep.
The World Tree didn't have to kill an adventuring party in a single battle.
It could simply grind them down one floor at a time.
The Crimson Vanguard had survived too many raids to let that happen.
Elowen moved from person to person, checking wounds and applying healing magic where necessary.
Those with the worst injuries were ordered into bedrolls immediately.
Those capable of helping continued the repairs.
Cassian somehow found enough energy to begin humming.
Brakka looked toward him.
"Stop."
Cassian continued humming.
"I will throw you into the forest."
The humming became quieter.
It did not stop.
Stormfang climbed onto a massive broken root and sat overlooking the staircase.
Aldric remained at the edge of the clearing.
He looked upward.
Floor Thirty-Seven waited.
Stronger enemies.
New mechanics.
More danger.
But not tonight.
Tonight, they would eat.
They would repair their equipment.
They would replenish their supplies.
They would recover their mana.
They would heal.
They would sleep.
Tomorrow, they would climb again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Together.
The Crimson Vanguard had no intention of being the fastest party through the World Tree.
They intended to be the party that reached the end.
Aldric tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword.
Whatever waited above them, they would face it when they were ready.
And somewhere within the impossible dimensions of the World Tree, another party was climbing as well.
How far they had gone, Aldric couldn't know.
How they were handling the increasingly dangerous floors, he could only imagine.
For some reason, though, the image that came to mind was Jax Darquebane smiling.
Aldric frowned.
Then pushed the thought aside.
Tomorrow was Floor Thirty-Seven.
That was all that mattered.