If one could view Dei’s flesh extending downwards through the Spirit Realm from an outside perspective, they would see an expanding cone with a hollow core, Dei always pushing the central part of his mass into the next layer. Each dimension, individually, held a hollow sphere, but he could feel how everything was attached and it continuously made sense in non-euclidian geometry: a pattern for souls, spirits, and Leviathans it seemed.
On the surface, his body kept watch to ensure no other powerful demon-kin needed his attention, but slowly, he found his spiritual form drifting downwards.
The hairs of Connection gradually shortened on what might be considered his humanoid head, instead expanding outwards from his conical body. The majority of his mass slowly shifted to accommodate something of a change within him; rather than seeing himself as the human figure above with roots extending downwards, he became the mass.
Eyes sprouted, ears were carved into his flesh, and a singular, expansive mouth extended downwards through the Spirit Realm. The fleshy spheres became scaled cylinders, and Dei felt his mind take on a more predatory yet… gradual perspective.
Now, instead of a cone, he’d become something of a scaled eel that folded in on itself as it dove below.
It felt natural, something between his Racial ability [Fluid Shape] and the last evolution of [Solidity] that made spiritual organs more real rather than aesthetic working in tandem to make him something more.
It almost took him off guard, but a sense of calm suppressed his surprise, and he knew where in his genetics this kind of shift came from: the Leviathans. As a Reaper, he was half Leviathan, half Union- which split into a quarter Spirit, a quarter Human. Until now, he’d maintained his humanoid shape and instincts, but with his venture through the Spirit Realm and his command over its inhabitants, he’d become something of a Lesser Leviathan, if that existed, inheriting even their ways of thinking.
He felt… disconnected. Like the war didn’t mean anything, and it wouldn’t be all that tragic to leave it all behind, diving further into the Spirit Realm, taking his friends and family with him, and just disappearing.
Still, his Wrath refused. These Gem Dwellers were his people and, most importantly, Iora was still alive.
His form wriggled slightly and he barely resisted the urge to curve upwards, find which Shaman was Iora, and snap at her.
With the movement, he was suddenly aware that he could change his location in the Spirit Realm. Though he’d only dove as deep as the fifteen layer so far, he found himself moving around, curving slightly to approach Spirits who’d accepted the contract but were still too far from him to reasonably enter his range any time soon.
Only his “Upper” body, from the tenth to the fifteenth layer, were able to move safely without overlapping into swarms of demon-kin, but that was enough to drastically increase the flow of spirits.
Rather than swim down the cone he was before, Dei found that the spirits were pulled into the current generated by how much mana he was ferrying upwards, the local spirits riding along his scales.
As the flow increased and spirits from the deeper layers floated upwards, Dei was made aware of a flaw in his plan- the upper layers of the Spirit Realm began to… sag. It wasn’t something he’d have seen if he weren’t integrated with it so fully, but it was obvious to him now.
His weight, in particular, was slowly cracking the reality around him; if he didn’t find a solution soon, there was a very good chance he was going to get dragged down into the deeper layers of the Spirit Realm, his hook into the Physical Realm the only reason he hadn’t yet.
Before he could even begin to parse a solution, a spiritual figure curled around him, Lavor appearing at his humanoid image in the Physical Realm.
His Shamanic staff did not speak, but gesture to itself, sending a reverse-Identify. Dei was made aware of certain aspects of its existence
Layer 1: [Level 55]
Layer 2: [Level 110]
Layer 3: [Level 165]
…
Layer 8: [Level 440]
Every layer increased the “Level cap” by fifty five. If he wanted to stay in a particular place, he’d need to lower himself down to such a strength.
It would leave him, stat wise, as weak as everything else there. Functionally, though? His Skills would still be unmatched, his variety and affinity grade would remain the same, and he would still have his immensely powerful Racial abilities.
He didn’t have to wonder how he’d go about doing something like this, as he actually did have the perfect tool for this job, the level 100 evolution for [Growing Rage].
[Level 100 evolutionary upgrade - As your body grows to new heights, you must find stronger enemies to test yourself against. You never reach perfection, but the availability of enemies does. Gain a new mode of the Skill: Training Mode, where the body matches the challenge level of your enemy, allowing for Level, Skill, and Stat growth at a higher rate than would normally be available to fighting weaker enemies]
He could choose an enemy and “Match their challenge level.”
Trying to select the Shamanic staff, he found that the Skill partially slid off, until it interfaced with him somewhat. He let it decide his “Challenge,” watching carefully to make sure it didn’t weaken him unnecessarily.
By the time it was done, the staff had achieved the optimal situation- a level that matched the cap of each layer, with Skills that were somehow untouched by the challenge setting.
‘Why does it even have a feature like that?’ he wondered, ‘To mess with challenge abilities? Perhaps so that if an arrogant godling tries it, the staff can lower them down to level one instantly and kill them… note to self, do NOT use that ability lightly. Increased EXP gain is nice and all, but that’s an incredible risk.’
He wondered how strong the demon-kin were and how they ever hoped to match the Shamanic staffs, because he did not believe for a single moment that an army of level fifty five’s would ever match a level fifty five Shamanic staff.
Identifying them, he received something of a sort of response.
[Demon-Kin: Estimated level: 240 by normal standards. 90 by yours. Spiritually 55]
Searching them, he found that they were missing portions of their already-fragile spirit structures. Demon-kin were not creatures, barely thought, and were less than foot soldiers. These demon-kin, however, took that a step further, burning away time to “lighten the load” so to speak.
None of them would last any more than two months at best, which is why the Spiritual Realm demon-kin were so much weaker despite having less soldiers to kill them. Any time one actually killed a spirit and took its path, its soul would likely become too heavy for itself, shortening its lifespan further.
There were no real Elites on this front, no demon-kin with conquered soul fragments, just a wall of distractions that couldn’t be ignored.
The final issue to handle were how the local spirits weighed on the Spirit Realm, but he found that wasn’t as large an issue. While most of them were more powerful than level fifty five, it wasn’t enough to immediately kick them out. More than that, they were all around the same weight, causing the entire layer to sag evenly.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Studying the effect, he saw that the moment one fell through or caused a tear, all the spirits or, more accurately, the entire local battle, would drop down to the second layer, including all the demon-kin. The only entities that would not suffer such an effect were Dei and the staffs, as they were multi-layer creatures held up by more than only the weight beneath their feet.
When Lavor saw Dei’s figure was stabilized, he left, the entire interaction taking only a handful of seconds.
Dei wanted to ask Lavor if the effect he was accidentally created would work in their favor, but sighed as he never got the chance. He would have to assume the answer was yes, as he couldn’t imagine the staffs missing such a vital component.
* * *
The spirits, unworried about damaging their terrain or even prolonging their presence in the layer, served as the perfect reinforcements. While many died, the demon-kin of the first layer were thoroughly repelled.
He kept an eye on the battle above, and was even able to see a marginal increase in power of the Shaman’s. Without having to expend as much energy in the Spirit Realm and, supposedly, the Dream if Perumah was to be believed, they could focus more on the main front.
Dei extended tentacles from his node in the first layer, ripping apart any he could and shielding the more powerful spirits from blasts of Phaton Plague when possible- they really liked their suicide attacks.
Somewhere along the way, he noticed that the people of the Physical world couldn’t exactly see him, and realized [Good Samaritan] was acting to obscure his location. Even those he was directly fighting in the Spirit Realm struggled to keep their guards up.
Despite being something of a kaiju, few things could attack or retaliate against him.
Dei patiently ferried more and more spirits upwards, the Spirit Realms impressive elasticity holding out for as long as it could.
Almost a full day later, as the demon-kin of the first layer were functionally conquered and the spirits were reaching the end of how much they could grow, it finally all came to a head.
Hearing the first sounds of snapping, Dei immediately demanded all spirits approach him, a mental counter in his mind keeping track of who was too new to have done anything and who’d fought hard enough to fulfill their contract.
The demon-kin, oblivious to the change that was soon to occur, rushed forward, nipping at the heels of the fleeing spirits.
Dei reached out and linked all the spirits with himself using Connection, feeding those that’d earned it fragments of memories that were useless to him yet liquid hold to anyone else.
With a final, horrible ripping sensation, everything in the first layer blanked, and all of them were dropped into the second.
The weaker demon-kin overlapped with those of layer two were crushed or injured as they were violently ejected from their previous position, trapped between the “Rock” that was an absent layer and the “Hard place” of a demon-kin twice as strong as they were.
Dei’s spirits, on the other hand, were gently lowered by him to the second layer, unharmed.
The Shamans immediately took advantage of the disorientation of the demon-kin, eviscerating them for being distracted.
The weaker demon-kin never stood a chance, serving as only collateral. Massacred by the Shamans who had no doubt prepared spells specifically for this eventuality.
A few spirits chose to take their reward and leave, but most felt the tangible difference and wanted more. They knew Dei would give them better, more significant memories, if they fought their way through this demonic hell, and roared out their challenge to the horde once more.
The beginnings of a plan formulated in his mind, and Dei continued to draw Spirits from the deeper layers, head swiveling through the fifteenth before deciding it was time and dropping to the sixteenth to search for more volunteers.
The first layer rapidly healed, Dei’s body in that particular layer finding its feet again. Just as he suspected, demon-kin rushed in once more to face the varied figures awaiting them.
In his single stunt, he’d managed to arrange the slaughter of several hundred thousand demon-kin.
Despite the majority of the spirits now being present on the second layer, Dei sent the spirits who hadn’t had a chance to fight or earn their reward back to the first, followed by any reinforcements.
The second-layer wouldn’t find a constant stream of fighters, but several sudden bursts. The stronger spirit-kin would flourish under the influence of his empowering soul fragments and the System’s bursts of EXP.
If he continued to follow this pattern, the spirits would grow to match the danger of their terrain, trickling down into the lower layers as their numbers were whittled but their power skyrocketed.
* * *
Four days later, the second layer cracked.
It’d been reinforced eighteen times, the damage to the first accelerating as Dei drew from from the more powerful pool of the sixteenth layer.
He gave the longest-surviving spirits larger fragments of himself than those of the newest round, but each had earned their keep.
Millions of spirits were fed to what he now considered a meat grinder. The first layer was effectively conquered, the demon-kin little more than a trickle compared to what it’d been before. As a result, many of the weaker ones slipped through to the second layer, the rate of “giving up” at that checkpoint rising but the number that chose to stay growing as well.
With the breaking of the second layer, he also decided to move his recruitment efforts into the seventeenth.
The Shamans of the Physical Realm were now tangibly stronger, the tide slowly turning to the favor of the Gem Dwellers.
They just needed to hold out. He was told they had reinforcements on the way, yet none had appeared.
Morale tactics? Interference? He had no idea.
* * *
Two days after the second-layer’s breaking, Dei was forced to step into the battle of the Physical world, a tide of demon-kin surging to overwhelm the Shamans.
His figure curved upwards, breaching into the world and slaughtering them by the hundreds before diving down again to avoid retaliation.
He repeated the action several times, a cheer resounding through the humans when he did.
His [Hollow Cry]s enough to injure or kill many, Clever's beams ripping through the armies occasionally when he felt it would be particularly meaningful.
Ever since the first day when he’d killed the post-500 demon-kin, Dei had sensed a slow change to soldiers of Phantom Plague. They were not withdrawing yet, but he knew something was guiding them somehow. If any particularly powerful demon-kin appeared Clever would work to evaporate them, but he noticed there were less godlings.
The demon-kin were throwing the expendables out to test their defenses, waiting for an opportune moment. It made the leaders of his side nervous, though the general populace did not notice the strange pattern.
* * *
Dei guarded the spirits that needed to sleep by carrying them down to a natural layer and warding off any who wanted to strike them while they were vulnerable; when they awoke, he would carry them back upwards to fight anew.
He could tell the third layer would break soon, and could only look on with excitement. It usually took around three cycles before he considered a layer “Conquered.”
* * *
Nine days after the second layer first cracked, Dei saw the first signs of the third- when a chill went up his spine.
‘Something’s wrong.’
A crack echoed through the Physical layer, one of the distant obscured walls breaking.
Several unmatched presences rushed forward, twelve divine demon-kin blitzing straight for the city.
Dei’s body curved upwards, charging towards them at the same time as all the other Shamans, he felt the shift in the spirit demon-kin.
As one, the hordes stopped attacking, focusing only on fighting against the tide pulling them down to force themselves into the higher layers.
The Shamans, sensing something wrong, redoubled their efforts, burning through as many resources as quickly as possible to slaughter the vulnerable monsters.
They clawed their way upwards, but their Racial abilities were not as sensitive as his own, the Spirit Realm rejected them, breaking down under the flood.
Dei felt himself slip, and immediately knew their goal- they weren’t trying to kill him or reach the Physical layer, they wanted to prevent him from going up to contribute to the fight.
Layers one through eight were destroyed, and he knew what little grip he had wasn’t enough.
Making a split second decision, he threw Fendrascora, Clever, and Perumah’s main node out of his body and towards the human city.
“Protect them!” he begged, “I’ll be fine!”
Fendrascora and Clever didn’t fight it, but Perumah snaked out, digging into his flesh painfully and being dragged down with him
“No.”
Both armies of the Spirit Realm hit the ninth layer, and tore through.
Tenth, Eleventh, Thirteenth, Dei felt himself flailing to grasp at any handhold he could, the momentum slowly bleeding off but not quickly enough to stop him instantly.
The Shamanic staffs never got a chance to even help him, having done everything they could to not lose themselves to the flow as he had.
It was the fourteenth layer when something massive slammed into Dei’s side, his many eyes locking onto the titanic demon-kin who also spanned several layers, just as he did.
Strangely enough, instead of focusing on the massive figure, he found his senses tingling instead to a place at the top of its snout- on a miniscule, almost invisible figure that tickled the memory of Vigilance. It was the same demon-kin that’d spied on him, it felt the same at least, and it was the first time he laid eyes on it directly.
‘Is that… a T-Rex?’ he wondered briefly as he felt teeth sink into his side.
