You have entered sector 108 of the Endless Dungeon. This sector is level 4 of 5 of the Guardian Tower.

I emerged on a cliff face.

In a split second, a flurry of images flashed through my mind. Sheer rockfaces. Jagged peaks. Blue sky. A narrow ledge. And space. An infinite amount of yawning space, ready to swallow me.

Thankfully, the magical chill gripping my body had dissipated, and I was moving at full speed again. Twisting sideways, I avoided the endless tumble that beckoned and instead fell onto the slender ledge.

A heartbeat later, my face smacked up against cold hard rock. Ooof! That had hurt.

But it was better than the alternative.

Picking myself up gingerly, I took stock of my new surroundings.

I was somewhere in the middle of a sheer cliff. The rock wall extended vertically both above and below me. The portal had deposited me on a slim outcropping barely wide enough to stand upon, and because of the manner in which I’d entered the gateway, I had almost tumbled right off when I’d come through.

I guess that was another trap set for the unwary, I thought drily. If I’d been only a little slower, I would be dead.

Spreading my arms and bracing them against the cliff, I peered downward and tried to measure the drop. But the ground was not visible. Concealing it was thick white banks of clouds. Down isn’t an option, then.

I craned my head upward—carefully. The azure blue sky stared back at me, and for a moment, I just drank in the sight. It made for a wonderful change after months of seeing the same dreary cloudbanks day in and day out.

Unfortunately, the sky looked out of reach.

From where I stood, I couldn’t see the clifftop. But I could see the few hundred feet of rockface separating me from the top. It was smooth and lacked handholds. Unclimbable.

I faced forward again. Directly opposite me was another cliff, nearly identical to the one I was on. But it, too, was out of reach, with nothing bridging the three hundred feet between me and it except empty air.

Finally, I turned my gaze to the ledge itself.

To my right, it ended sharply in a steep drop. But to my left, it continued onwards. Never widening more than three feet, the thin rock shelf traced a ragged path along the cliff face.

I sighed. It was the only viable path and clearly, the one I was meant to take. And while having a defined route made for a welcome change after the trackless tundra, I was wary of what dangers it hid.

The ledge would not be safe. I was certain of it.

I glanced around again. But where were the threats hiding? I could spot none, not even with mindsight. I sighed again. There was no helping it.

I had to follow the ledge and see where it took me.

~~~

It was slow going.

Shifting carefully sideways—always with my weight pushed back and my hands skimming the rock at my rear—I followed the ledge as it meandered along the cliff.

Sometimes the rock shelf shrank to less than a foot wide and stayed that way for a seeming eternity. That made for tricky footwork. Matters were not helped by my bulky armor either.

I’d shed my snowshoes before entering the dome but had retained the rest of my gear, including my fur overcoat. Now, I had cause to regret it. Doing this would’ve been a lot easier in newbie clothes, I thought crossly.

But despite my grumbling, I didn’t discard my armor. Who knew when I would need it again? And thankfully, heat wasn’t a problem. The two cliffs—my own and the one opposite—marched parallel to each other, casting the space in between in perpetual shadow.

An hour later, I was still edging along the ledge.

I should find somewhere to rest soon, I thought. One of the wider spots along the ledge should do. Pausing for a moment, I scanned the path ahead.

There, that looks like a—

I stilled.

A deeper pool of black had flitted over the cliff face ahead. In the shadows, it was hard to tell one patch of darkness from another, but my sight was keen enough to pick out the differences.

And I was sure something had just overflown the cliff.

Slowly, I turned my face up. A shadow swept over me. It belonged to a familiar shape, one with a wide wingspan, sinuous tail, and snaking head.

Wyvern.

I was sure of it. My fear spiked. There was no way I could fight the flying beast. I was too exposed on the ledge, and without room to maneuver, I would make for easy pickings.

But the creature hadn’t seen me. Nor did it appear on the hunt.

It was gliding unconcernedly on the air currents, carving huge circles in the sky and, by all appearance, flying only for the sheer pleasure of it.

I’m safe, I realized, tension easing. Staying where I was, I drew the shadows tighter around me. Then carefully, I extended my will and analyzed the beast circling overhead.

The target is a level 165 brown wyvern.

So, I’d called it right. The creature was a wyvern. The beast above wasn’t as powerful as Besina had been, but I didn’t fool myself; in this environment, the brown wyvern would be nigh impossible to defeat.

What to do? I wondered.

Keep going until I find a secure place to rest and, if need be, fight.

Pressing deeper into the cliff wall behind me, I crept onwards.

~~~

A little later, I came to the end of the ledge.

Unfortunately, there was no safe ground to be found at the end of it. In front of me was a rope bridge. It was bolted to the rock wall and expanded away from my cliff to the opposite one. Worse yet, while I could see the bridge’s far end, its middle sagged so deeply it was concealed by the cloud banks below.

“Bloody hell,” I mumbled under my breath.

If I wished to continue, I would have to step onto the bridge. That idea had little appeal, though. If anything, the bridge looked less secure than the ledge. But what choice did I have?

Unhappily, I contemplated the rope bridge again.

Both ends of the bridge appeared to be firmly fastened and the bridge didn’t seem to be in danger of collapsing. But it had no guard rails, making falling a distinct possibility.

The bridge was only two feet across, wide enough not to make the crossing hazardous, but it was far from ideal. Its bottom consisted of slatted wooden pieces, each individually attached, and I could only hope they too were properly secured.

I glanced upwards again, as I had taken to doing regularly since I’d first spotted the wyvern. The creature hadn’t made a reappearance, but I wasn’t reassured. It still lurked somewhere in the mountains.

I turned back to the bridge. Sooner started, sooner done.

Placing one foot on the bridge, I pressed down lightly. A slight tremor was the only response. Moving with glacial slowness, I stepped fully onto the bridge.

It shook, but only a touch.

Exhaling a careful breath, I took a step forward. Then another. The bridge remained stable. Alright, it appears sound enough. Spreading my arms, I advanced down the bridge, placing each foot with exaggerated care.

Thirty feet. Sixty. Ninety.

Then, the clouds billowed upwards, swallowing me into their depths and visibility dropped to nearly nothing. Mid-motion, I froze. I was barely able to see my feet, much less where to place them next.

I grimaced. Another complication.

Keep moving. This is exactly the wrong place to stop. Flexing my knees, I slid a foot forward, making sure to keep it in contact with the bridge at all times. Another step completed. Then, I brought the next foot forward. Continuing in this manner, I resumed my crossing.

One twenty feet. One fifty.

I’d reached the bridge’s lowest point. From here, it sloped upwards. Halfway there. I slid my right leg forward.

A shape whizzed past.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you! You are hidden.

The entire bridge swayed with the creature’s passing. Throwing myself forward, I clutched at the closest rope.

Another unseen shape rushed through the cloud. Its presence, too, was very much felt as the bridge was set to rocking again.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you!

Damnation!

Wrapping my arms across the base of the bridge, I hugged it tight and flung open my mindsight. I was just in time to catch three more mindglows flash past.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you!

The bridge lurched violently. Swaying like a pendulum, it cut one hundred and eighty degree arcs in the air. I held on—barely. But despite my predicament, I retained the presence of mind to interrogate one of the flying creatures before it flew out of range.

The target is a level 161 brown wyvern.

Well, now I know what this level is all about: wyvern and bridges.

Closing my eyes, I prepared to ride out the bridge’s bucking. Gods, I hate this sector already.

~~~

I spent another five minutes hugging the bridge. By then, its tremors had subsided.

I’d waited this long in case the wyverns returned, but seeing that they hadn’t, I resumed my crossing. Staying prone, I fast-crawled across the bridge—dignity be damned.

I reached the other end safely and dropped lightly onto the waiting ledge. My gaze flew upwards. Now that I was out of the clouds, I could see the five wyverns clearly.

They swooped and glided in a carefree fashion.

Clearly, I would not find safety above—my gaze dropped to the clouds from which the wyverns had emerged—nor from below.

I glanced along the ledge. It stretched beyond my line of sight, following the cliff. I sighed, realizing what this meant. Let’s have at it, then.

Rising to my feet, I began edging along the ledge.