By the time they secured their fourth token, they’d faced down an oversized stork, a giant cobra, and a rampaging gazelle. Each resided in its own miniature biome, ensconced along the base of the cliff.

  Every one of the monsters was well beyond the power of an Iron-Tier boss. Ascending to Bronze felt like a true reset, and Sam was reminded of his early days battling along the slopes. Not only were the enemies stronger and faster, but their hides were also far more durable. Gone were the days he could tear through enemies with impunity.

  It meant they were also taking more injuries as a result. He’d been forced to burn the active from [Battle Healing] when the stork had skewered him through the gut, tearing a hole straight through his breastplate. He’d been fortunate that Siel had been there in time to shoot it in the eye before it could completely disembowel him.

  Sam pulled the spike of his warhammer from the base of the gazelle’s neck, grimacing at the trail of viscera that clung to the dark metal. In the end, he’d been forced to jump on top of the bucking, flailing creature, nearly impaling himself on its horns. It had run circles around them for nearly half an hour, almost as if it knew it was burning down the timer.

  “What is it with this Ring and deer?” he gasped, storing the corpse and collapsing to the ground in a heap.

  “Skies know,” Siel replied, breathing heavily as she leaned against Molly, who had nearly keeled over from exhaustion. She had a deep cut across her forehead, the blood flowing between her eyes like some sort of ancient warpaint. The battle had been a true test of endurance, one which they'd almost failed.

  A chime sounded in Sam’s ear, confirming they’d secured all four tokens. The timer showed less than three hours remaining on the quest: they were cutting it far too close.

  “We need to keep moving,” he gasped, forcing himself to his feet. “I think I know where we need to turn in these tokens, but just in case I'm wrong…” his voice trailed off. If they were forced to complete another complex puzzle, he wasn't confident they'd be able to do it before the timer hit zero.

  Siel gave a short nod, straightening from where she was healing a gash on Molly’s flank. “I knew this Dungeon was going to be more difficult than those in Iron, but this is something else. It's as though my [Divine Skills] are weaker than they should be.”

  Sam was puzzled at that. He hadn’t noticed any difference in his skills, but given his unique situation, he doubted they were comparable.

  “Is there anything on your HUD?” he asked, cleaning his gear by unequipping and re-equipping it.

  “No, which is why I thought I was imagining it at first. After this last fight, however, there is no doubt. Something is suppressing my mana.”

  Sam cranked up [Arcane Eyes] and focused on Siel’s [Mana Network]. It did look weaker than normal, the usual green and gold hues moving sluggishly along her channels.

  The source of the suppression was unknown, for while the cavern was rich in various types of mana, none of them appeared to be influencing the sylvan in any meaningful way. To Sam, she just looked burnt out.

  “Are you sure you're not just tired? We’ve been fighting all day.”

  “I'm sure,” she replied. Her eyes were heavy, but Sam could see their resolve. “While I am fatigued, this is something else. I can feel the will of some divine force pressing down on me.”

  “Here,” Sam said, stepping up beside Siel. He placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed [Apostate] out across her skin.

  It was similar to what he’d done in the cave with the [Wyrm Titan], only far more refined. Rather than pushing out an unfocused cloud, he only used as much of the skill as was needed to wrap her in a cocoon of divine disruption.

  She took a deep breath as the skill encased her, and Sam could see her mana flaring to life underneath her skin. There was some power at work suppressing her mana. Whatever it was, it was invisible and seemed to be getting more powerful the longer they stayed near the temple.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as her healing skill returned to full strength.

  “Don't mention it,” he replied, acutely aware of how close they were standing. He could feel her breath tickle his cheek as she closed her eyes and concentrated on cycling her skills.

  “Alright,” she said after a few minutes, her face looking slightly less pale. It was still covered in blood, but she no longer looked as though she was going to pass out.

  “Whatever it is, it's messing with all your skills. No wonder these fights feel so hard. It's limiting your strength, healing, everything.”

  She cracked a pained smile. “Well, then, it's good I have my own personal divine shield.” She gave him a pat on the arm before climbing into Molly’s saddle.

  Sam couldn't help but feel a slight lurch in his stomach at the contact. He quickly dismissed the feeling, instead refocusing on the timer steadily ticking down in the corner of his vision.

  “Whatever we need to do, I figure it’s probably related to that obelisk. We need to go fast, but keep your eyes peeled for traps.”

  Siel made a face as they both set off at a brisk pace. “My eyes will remain unpeeled, thank you very much. What a world you must come from where that becomes one of your expressions.”

  Sam opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't argue with her logic. “In my defence, my native language is the bastard great-grandchild of about five different root languages. I doubt half the people speaking English today have any idea where our common idioms come from. I imagine it's the same in other languages.”

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  “It is not for ours,” Siel chuckled, leaning forward in the saddle. “We only have a single language, though it has diverged somewhat since my people were forced underground.”

  “Huh,” Sam replied. It was hard to imagine an entire global population able to communicate.

  “How many different languages are there on your world?” Siel asked, eyes hard as she surveyed the fast-approaching bridge.

  “Oh man, I don't know. Hundreds? Thousands, probably, if you include dialects.”

  “Thousands,” Siel muttered, shaking her head. “How do you even communicate? You must walk down a single tunnel and hear twenty different tongues.”

  “I mean, sometimes,” Sam nodded, [Arcane Eyes] flaring as they entered the temple city. The large sandstone buildings rose overhead, immediately quieting the sound of the river. A wide boulevard led straight towards the obelisk, and he could see it towering over the open square.

  The area appeared to be completely deserted. They’d spent a few minutes spying on it from various angles as they made their circuit, but never once did either of them detect even a single scrap of life or a hint of movement.

  “There are a few dominant languages on the planet, and most people speak more than one. At one point, I could kinda speak four different ones myself, but I'm pretty out of practice.”

  “Your people must be great scholars if they are able to accomplish such a feat.”

  “I dunno about all that. It's more of a necessity. To your point, people from different cultures mix all the time, and people need to communicate.”

  “How many people are there on your world?” she asked, neck craning as she tried to peer in the windows of the buildings they passed.

  “I think we just passed eight billion?” Sam said, recalling the number from one of his biology classes.

  “Eight billion?!” Siel exclaimed, eyes going wide.

  “Yes?” Sam replied.

  “That’s–that’s…” her voice sputtered, face a mask of confusion.

  “Is that a lot, a little?” Sam asked, surprised by her reaction.

  “On my world, the lower clans consist of some twenty million souls.” She did some quick math on her fingers. “There are probably a quarter of that on the surface.”

  “Wait,” Sam replied, “so you’re saying there are only twenty-five million Sylvan on the entire planet? Why so few?”

  “War, disease, famine. And our people clearly do not breed as fast as yours. Each time our civilization cracks, it takes hundreds of years to repair it.”

  “Our’s doesn’t sound all that different, minus the slow baby thing. We had an entire period just called ‘The Dark Ages’. That’s still wild to me, though. We have cities with more people than your entire race. A lot more.”

  Siel looked dumbstruck as they cleared the last part of the street and exited into the square. Sam wasn’t quite sure why the conversation had struck such a chord with her, but now wasn’t the time to pursue it. The timer showed just over two hours remaining.

  The base of the obelisk flared in a series of wide steps, elevating it on a platform some twenty feet high. It was an imposing structure, and Sam was shocked to see that it appeared to be carved from one massive block of sandstone. While the rest of the plaza was hewn from rough blocks, the obelisk was smooth. No seams marred its surface, and the only blemish came in the form of circles carved at eye-level into the base.

  Sam grinned as he climbed the stairs, pleased to see that the carving matched the shape of the token perfectly. The outline of a hippo was etched into the stone, and the large coin easily slid into place. He repeated the process on the other two sides, but hesitated before inserting the final token.

  “What do you think is going to happen when I do this?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

  “Nothing good,” Siel replied, shaking her head.

  “It’s never good,” he sighed, peering up at the light slowly fading overhead. The brilliant sunlight had begun to fade as they battled the gazelle, and he wasn’t keen to continue fighting in the dark. They needed to finish this–and quickly.

  He slid the final token into place, and a low chime rang across the square. It echoed against the distant buildings, layering on top of itself until it became a steady hum. The pavers beneath their feet began to tremble with the force, sending up clouds of dust.

  Sam retreated down the stairs and stood next to Siel and Molly, weapons ready. He wasn’t sure if they were better off retreating to the safety of one of the buildings. They all looked sturdy enough, but he didn’t love the idea of tons of solid stone overhead in case of a legitimate earthquake.

  The hum turned into a roar that shook them to the core and caused their teeth to chatter. It was like standing on top of the world’s largest massage chair.

  It might have been enjoyable if it weren’t so terrifying.

  The sound coalesced, and Sam could see the streams of mana beneath the surface of the rock. It was gathering underneath the obelisk, forming a swirling vortex of energy.

  Sam blinked and nearly missed the surge as it suddenly rose and shot from the tip of the obelisk. His neck snapped back as he watched the beams of light shoot outwards, each one piercing one of the five waterfalls that circled the temple. The water hissed and steamed as the beams made contact, the sound carrying all the way to the center of the cavern.

  It was soon joined by a low grinding, as five massive doors slid outwards. The waterfalls parted around them, sending thousands of litres of water careening down the jagged cliffs. Every door was slightly different, but even at this distance, Sam could tell that each of them was easily over fifty feet tall.

  The grinding stopped, and a new chime sounded.

  [Quest 2/3 - Survive the Bereft of Bast]

  The doors sealing the unworthy have opened. Only those of true heart and sound purpose may pass and ascend to the heavenly halls.

  Defeat Waves 0/5

  [Time Remaining: 00:2:04:57]

  [Reward: 3,500 Spira]

  “Oh fuck,” Sam said, reading the updated text. While the Arbiter had given them credit for completing the first quest, it hadn’t updated the overall timer. They not only had to survive all five waves, but they had to defeat them in time to also complete the third quest.

  “This is going to be close,” Siel said between gritted teeth, her eyes fixed on the first of the doors, which had just begun to open.

  “I don’t think we have time to stand around,” Sam agreed, dashing towards the side of the chamber.

  In the distance, he could hear the subtle rhythm of drums. The low throb was fast and frenetic, a driving pace matched by a series of high-pitched, feral screams. Dark forms emerged from inside the door, throwing themselves down the cliff with reckless abandon.

  Whatever these creatures were, they didn’t appear to care much for their own safety or well-being. He saw a few break themselves on the rock, only to be trampled by another just behind. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him as he dashed across the bridge and finally got a good look at the creatures.

  They moved sometimes on two legs, and sometimes on all four, in a shuffling, hunched gait. It triggered a memory in some distant part of his brain, and it wasn’t until he saw their fangs glowing in the cavern’s half-light that he made the connection.

  The monkeys' eyes were bloodshot, their expressions rabid as they dropped to the other side of the river and made a beeline for the bridge. Their dark fur was criss-crossed with streaks of red, and Sam knew they had already entered some sort of berserker state.

  He counted more than thirty of the beasts as he took up a position next to Molly in the center of the bridge. Their shrieks only increased as they locked onto him, their throats tearing as they ripped at each other in an attempt to be the first one to reach him.

  He took a deep breath as their footsteps pounded across the bridge, their sound mixing with the distant drums. He levelled his spear and let out a cry of his own, flooding the bridge with his aura as he prepared to weather the charge. Beside him, Molly let out a low growl, he tusks glowing silver.

  Sam let out ashort laugh as the first arrow whizzed by overhead.

  The first wave had begun.