Unchosen Champion-Chapter 339: Coral Abyss

Coop descended further into the Coral Forest. He was delving into the abyssal depths without letting the threat of the unknown deter his increasing forward momentum. New frontiers meant new monsters, and new monsters meant more experience, more levels, and more stats. The prize of more stats was all it took to truly motivate him.

There was bound to be an opportunity in the unconquered region of the mana well, and he intended to take it. Then, if there were further depths, he would continue forward. Only after he conquered the domain would he be ready to consider whether or not phase two of his grind was complete.

Phase three would be a concession toward mana itself, where his focus shifted toward an accumulation of stats rather than a concentrated pursuit of levels. Slayer titles would represent his circumvention of the diminishing returns in experience gains, but only after he accepted that his personal aggregation of mana exceeded the natural concentrations on the planet. As his growth made it harder and harder to show proper progress for his efforts, he would find a new way to sustain his momentum. That was what he saw as his fundamental mission.

Unless the system cut him down with another surprise as extreme as a full level reset, he couldn’t imagine his momentum being stifled. But even in the case of another reset, he knew what to do, and his experience would enable him to go even faster. With repetition came reassurance. Nothing would keep him from collecting more attributes.

Judging by his stats alone, he was immensely powerful, with thousands of levels accumulated in his build, but that was only the surface layer of his overall proficiency. His experience defeating millions of enemies, practicing his abilities over and over, replicating the processes countless times, all combined to transform him into a truly scary opponent.

He slowly shook his head as he considered the titles and monikers he had earned on behalf of his settlement: Mistwalker, Siegebreaker, Underking, Icon of Humanity, and Unchosen Champion. They had all been earned for one reason only; he was persistent in his pursuit of progress so that Ghost Reef would be secure.

He crossed the threshold at the edge of the sandy ridge separating the fifth and sixth layers of the mana well, holding high expectations for the next challenge and hoping he would be up to the task. The most competent of his allies had given him sufficient warnings to take the region seriously, so he would do just that.

He slid down the steep ridge of piled up sand, with his eyes up and his head held high. His previous experiences should have bolstered him, but he still felt pangs of anxiety toward facing the unknown. Whatever mana had cooked up in the dense soup deep within the Coral Forest would have to match his deadly diligence, and that was all.

The light rapidly dimmed as he slid deeper, creating a small avalanche of sand around his ankles. When he passed through the billowing black and dark purple mana it stung his skin at the mere touch, drawing splotches of inflammation like he had been splashed with boiling grease. He continued despite the superficial damage applied by passing through the threshold.

The prongs of his ethereal trident were held at the ready, both hands firmly guiding his weapon forward. The ground gradually became stained with ashen powder as he continued into the depths. It was surprisingly dry, as if the omnipresent dampness of the rest of the mana well had evaporated beneath the super-heated clouds of blackened soot. The sixth layer was an isolated pocket of distinct weather, drastically contrasting the rest of the Coral Forest, but in a way, that was to be expected. Each layer had been unique.

By the time the sandy floor leveled off, his surroundings were as dark as midnight on the open sea. Rather than stars, tiny bursts of phosphorescent purple light provided twinkling flashes that only gradually faded in the black smoke, smothered by the swelling clouds as they rose into the sky like loose embers. It may have been lowlight provided by floating plankton unlucky enough to sink back to the bottom, but it was enough for Coop to get an idea of the environment. In the distance, pockets of illuminated smoke were bursting from the ground, highlighted from below with turquoise and violet accents that subtly contributed to the limited radiance of the rest of the sixth level.

Coop stepped forward, discovering that the sand had thinned out to sheets that were only a few grains thick and inconsistently gave way to slate-colored flakey rock. The bedrock of the layer was partially exposed, revealing sharp and jagged stone among small patches of the ashen sand. Larger towers of solid rock appeared across the surface where the most vibrant light originated, but their full height was masked by the black clouds that established the darkness of the region, like smoke stacks in a particularly dirty industry, all trapped within a forsaken basin that prevented proper airflow.

After just a few moments, Coop was reminded of the surreal isolation he had recognized upon landing in the Underlayer for the first time, though he was uncomfortable for a number of reasons. He was just a small climb up a sandy ridge away from the Gliders and Hai Yun’s gathering, but he felt utterly cut off from the more familiar world above. The sky weighed heavily, thick with excoriating mana smoke.

The sensation of seclusion he felt upon entering the zone was almost entirely created by the near-total darkness, the alien atmosphere, and a shift in the pressure that seemed to press down upon him, recreating proper deep-sea depths. The heat made the air thick, like he was breathing through a wet washcloth that someone had microwaved before slamming onto his face.

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Still, in an exceedingly eerie way, Coop found the area beautiful, unique, and fascinating. It was like being a tourist in a post-apocalyptic hellscape where intense violet fires had long since dominated, scouring the land clean, only to give way to additional harshness. Everything from the air to the ground was uninviting, but that made it provocative, like it held hidden treasures that could reward the intrepid.

While he approached the nearest of the towers, he could feel the heat rising, as if every inch that drew him closer increased the temperature by a few degrees. Gouts of smoke, tinged with the darkest blues and purples such that they appeared completely black, were billowing through tiny cracks and crevices in the natural structure. The barriers were all dimly glowing with abyssal greens, gray blues, and pops of lilac, as if chemical fires were burning below. Even in the intense heat and darkness, he spotted anemones that had found a way to thrive, bathed in the gaseous smog, somehow avoiding ignition. Coop hesitated before drawing any closer to the towers to look, recognizing that there was a real threat of combustion if he ignored the risk. Unlike the anemones, he hadn’t been acclimated to the severe environment, and he could feel the threat of boiling alive.

As he observed, he finally recognized the dark stone towers as hydrothermal vents. They were primal chimneys built upon fissures that expelled superheated mana from deep below the surface. They formed mineral deposits while spewing plumes of dark purple smoke, surrounded by bizarre growths and soft-bodied creatures that glistened with radical life. The colors, even stained by murky fumes and diluted by the smoky heat, were otherworldly. The immediate surroundings of the chimney shimmered with crimson red tendrils and deep yellow facades through harsh black grime.

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The floor itself was equally chaotic, combining a mixture of errant patches of sand that had tumbled from above onto randomly placed ore deposits with rough mineral formations and crevices that hinted at an unstable region where the ground had broken and reformed countless times, like the surroundings of an active volcano. Every step was dangerous, and Coop was careful not to trip, all while pushing through the thick walls of heat that rose up between the various vents so that he could explore further.

Meanwhile, as the sandy ridge grew more distant, the noise level rose. The vents, all a variety of different sizes, established a chaotic soundscape of low rumbles and growls, like dozens of diesel truck engines were idling with imbalanced fuel to air ratios. It was an unsettling and constant bristling hum that seemed to carry threats from the ocean itself, as if even in its absence, the pressure begged for the opportunity to crush him. The closest vents were the calmest, as if they had aged out of their tumultuous phase, and were only emitting enough mana to remain standing.

Moments of sudden hissing attracted his senses with their contrast, triggering some instinct to avoid stepping on snakes. Rather than the warning of deadly attacks, they were instances where the moisture from the rest of the domain found a way through the clouds and into the dark region. They splashed on mineral surfaces, briefly glistening with orange heat on the rough stone only to evaporate and bubble like spilled water on a hot stove.

A normal person might have been discouraged by the environment, but Coop was genuinely mesmerized by the awe-inspiring ecosystem. The harsh conditions only made it that much more interesting, as if it was all a testament to life on Earth and its ability to thrive in extreme and even mana manipulated environments. The patches of soft-bodied corals, marine invertebrates, and seaweeds were amazing to him.

He wiped the sweat that had formed on his brow, watching nearby smoke disperse into the low sky where tiny lights popped to life as microorganisms were carried away. He wanted nothing more than to document what he was seeing so that he could share it with anyone that would listen, but despite his fascination, he couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of unease. His instincts were firing off, a bit like he was trespassing on a fragile work of art. It actually reminded him of the feeling of being stalked in the Fallen Zone, except instead of silence, he was bombarded by deep thrumming vibrations and threatening hisses.

The memory of the Appalachian forests left him focused on his instincts rather than the unique complex community of sea creatures and mana, seeking what must have been a nearby monster keeping an eye on him as he intruded upon its territory. He had been right about being hunted by the Primal Insurgents, and what he was sensing was similar enough to warrant his attention.

As he slowly panned across the unusual landscape, barely illuminated by uniquely colored heat vents and sporadic bioluminescence, he caught sight of something that finally put him on track toward potential enemies. The tip of a giant tentacle was subtly creeping around the base of the nearest hydrothermal vent, almost as if it was testing his ability to perceive its presence. Coop leaned forward to try and ascertain where it was coming from, trident held in his own arms like a coiled snake. He inched around the vent, still some distance away, trying to expose the owner of the small curling limb, prepared for his first bout in the abyss.

Almost as soon as he stepped forward, another made its move, attempting to wrap his ankle after it had subtly crept across the jagged floor from behind. Coop lifted his foot just in time, Presence of Mind screaming danger in his mind, causing both tentacles to flee. He spun as the second tentacle retracted after its failed ambush, dragging itself across the rough ground before suddenly pulling upwards.

The thin whip-like tip disappeared into the dark clouds, but the roiling mana failed to completely mask the rest of the limb. Coop’s eyes widened as he leaned his head back. He subconsciously lifted the trident protectively as he watched a conveyor belt of rough spikes rotate past a section where the smoke was thin, noting that the same undulating motion was occuring in half a dozen other places in the darkness above, revealed in the temporary gaps between clouds of smoke.

He had a brief moment where he was bewildered by the presence of a catastrophically large creature, effectively surrounding him through a simple difference in sizes before it all disappeared into the black mana.

It was like his abyssal sponsor had pushed a single arm through the billowing smoke, briefly revealing enough fleshy textured skin to prove it could easily crush him, before fading into another batch of smoke. There had been tons of seemingly alien flesh, floating, unnoticed, all around him, but instead of snatching him up, it was retreating into the darkness, as if the game was over as soon as he noticed its existence.

Coop had the wherewithal to inspect its aura before it vanished, even as his adrenaline surged and his instincts told him to run for his life.

[The Enigma (Boss Level ??)]

[(Intelligence)]

[Tyrant of the Abyss]

He adjusted his grip on the trident protectively as his jaw clenched, both surprised and horrified to find the boss without much difficulty. If he was being honest, he was mostly just relieved it wasn’t actually Sethrak, who personally came to punish Coop for rejecting his reward for a full dedication, though that was a small consolation.

Coop had his head on a swivel, looking for more signs of the layer’s boss, even while Fog of War struggled to contend with the heated vents and roiling smoke. Between Presence of Mind and his mana sight, he detected nothing. It was like the original feeling of isolation he had noted came crashing back, but this time mocking his failed senses.

The clouds were filled with mana, providing a level of camouflage that was impossible to penetrate with his sight. The heat evaporated his fog everywhere except for within narrow channels between vents, making it seem like a waste of mana to try and establish his own domain. It seemed like he would have to rely on his eyes and an unbolstered Presence of Mind if he dared continue.

He wasn’t sure how the floor boss had maintained its level after the mana well was reset. He doubted it had simply regained levels at a rate that outpaced his own gains so much that it presented as question marks. He thought there was probably some other factor he hadn’t considered that made its situation unique compared to the rest of the mana well, not that it made any difference when he was at the threshold of its lair.

He waited a few more moments, searching for the appearance of another grayish fleshy tentacle, or some other hint at his opponent’s presence, but there was nothing. Coop scoffed at the situation he found himself in, remembering the frustrating feeling of helplessness as he failed to encounter the Primal Insurgents for the first time.

He’d rather not play another cat and mouse game for days before he started his grind, but he had to answer a question before he took action. Should he pursue that boss? The sandy ridge was barely a hundred feet away. He could go back up to Hai Yun and return to one of the previous grinds, knowing that there were levels to be gained. If he wanted, he could even return later.

Coop quickly shook his head, making the decision even before he had asked the question. He weaved his way deeper into the abyssal plain. He had only received a single glimpse of his opponent, but like a predator recognizing a rival upon eye contact, he felt a deep desire to challenge the current king of the coral abyss, if for no other reason than to prove that his progress wasn’t an illusion.